Silvern (The Gilded Series) (7 page)

“Keep me informed at all times,” Mrs. Freeman says, her forehead knit together. “I suppose if this plan works, this group will be making history.”

“Yep,” Marc mutters under his breath. “History in the making.”

In the media center after school, Michelle and I draft up the medical relief proposal for the principal and the school board. We use the Keck medical school program as our model and make our list of arguments. It helps that Michelle has a knack for making something horrible sound wonderful.

“Are you sure this is something you have to do?” Michelle asks me.

“Yes, but you don’t,” I say. “You’re being helpful already just by helping me write this.”

“Listen. Whatever you are involved in is way bigger than my latest calculus class. I’m in this with you 100 percent. I just don’t understand why you suddenly have to go to North Korea.”

“We think there is a group there that can help heal Komo,” I say. “But with North Korea being so closed off, there isn’t any way to get in touch with them.”

“Seems like a lot of effort for something you don’t even know will work.” Michelle pulls out her ruler and starts creating a chart. “But if this is what you want, I’ll do what I can to make it happen.”

After Michelle and I turn in our proposal, I text Marc and make plans to stop by his house tonight so we can research the Kumgangsan area and brainstorm where the orb could be hidden.

Since I missed the school bus, I take the city bus home. It’s a long, bumpy ride, but I pull out my phone and begin to read about traveling to North Korea. Yet as I wave to the doorman and ride up the long elevator to the ninth floor of my apartment building, my stomach twists.

I hate going home. It feels too quiet and still. Ever since Mom died of cancer four years ago, Dad’s been an insane workaholic. And I’ve been alone.

As I press my finger into the scanner to unlock the door, I wish I’d agreed to head home with Marc or Michelle rather than deal with this huge empty lump in my stomach. The door beeps after I punch in the code, and the lock unsnaps. I slide my shoes off and shrug out of my leather jacket, letting it drop to the ground. As if anyone would notice. The black counter in the kitchen practically shines, the granite free of fingerprints, evidence of my dad’s and my lack of cooking ability.

I grab a water bottle from the fridge and try to block out the memory of our home back in California, stuffed with books and old furniture. Such a contrast to this apartment. The silence overwhelms me, ringing in my ears. I need to get out of this place. It’s practically a funeral home.

I spot a note from Dad on the counter. Sitting next to it is a paper butterfly.

Jae,

I won’t be able to make it home until after nine tonight since I’ve got a meeting in Busan. Your haraboji wants to meet us for brunch on Saturday so make sure you keep your schedule free. We’ll catch up soon.

~Dad

I set the note aside, already knowing the reason for the brunch, and my heart sinks thinking about it. What if Dad says no to the North Korea trip? It could ruin everything.

In my bedroom, I tape the butterfly next to the fish on the top of my laptop, tracing my finger around the paper edges. Then I pull out my horn bow case, get the bare essentials that I’ll need for an afternoon of target shooting, and stuff them into my backpack. Dad got me a membership at the Pavilion of the Yellow Stork after we got complaints about me shooting in the basement, but it’s been over a week since I practiced my bow-and-arrow shooting.

Before I leave the apartment, I check the balcony one more time. The rope I have coiled up and tied to the pole is neatly hidden beneath the porch chair. After having to climb down like I did last time, I like having a better option. I double-check the knots, because one thing I have learned along the way: it’s good to be prepared.

Since the archery center is located near downtown Gwanghwamun, it’s a short city bus ride and then a hike up the hill. There’s something so real and alive about springtime in Seoul. Winter is harsh and bitter, but spring breathes hope and possibilities.

The archery center is located halfway up the mountain, in a traditional wooden building that overlooks the forest below. You’d never know we were in the center of a city of over ten million people.

I bow to Master Ahn as I enter the main building of the Pavilion of the Yellow Stork. After I slide off my shoes, I set my case on the floor and pull out my bow. I run my fingers along the dragon image carved into the handle. Grandfather gave me this bow. I have no idea how old it must be, but it’s lasted centuries. It even survived the massive fire in Grandfather’s cave. This is the weapon that helped me defeat Haemosu.

“Miss Lee,” Master Ahn says. “Will you practice here or on the hillside?”

I start at his voice and find my face burning. “Um, outside.”

“Do you wish to bend your bow?” he asks.

Most people come here to work their bows under the fire. It’s the traditional method for keeping wooden bows in proper working order. I wonder if I should tell him that my bow never needs correction. It never needs new strings either, because magic runs through its sinews.

No, telling him would be a very bad idea. I smile. “I already did it at home. I have my own burner.”

“Of course.” He nods and gives my bow a quick glance before he attends to some Japanese tourists coming in loaded with cameras and questions.

I tie my
goong dae
to my waist, fill it with five arrows, and snap my case closed before heading outside. It’s a short stroll to the top of the hill where the large archery range is located. Cherry trees line the road. Their petals spin and swirl around me like snowflakes. I lift my hand and catch one. It settles into my palm.

Lily says if you catch a cherry blossom and make a wish as you blow it away, it’ll come true. But what to wish for? My heart feels torn. Do I wish for Komo’s health? For Kud to be out of my life and everything from the Spirit World to forget about my existence? For Marc and me never to be separated? To be closer to Dad? To hold Mom’s hand in mine one more time and feel her warmth?

I clench the petal into my fist and hurry up the road. From the corner of my eye, I notice, at the top of the hill next to the pagoda, the light almost shimmers, wavering like a mirage in a desert. I blink and it’s gone. A couple of people are shooting, their packs lying on the table in the pagoda. I let my pack slide off my shoulders, rest it on the table, and set my bow on top of it.

Slowly, I inch closer to the waving light, studying it. The scene through the trees looks totally different from where I’m standing. Wide, open fields roll out before me like a desert. The grass is brown, and the trees scattered about the hills lie barren, stark and lifeless. Two jagged peaks rise up in the distance, with clouds curling through them.

Sweat beads up on my forehead and my heart skips a beat. Even with its stark barrenness, I know this place.

The Spirit World.

There’s an odd tug at my insides, and I’m irresistibly compelled to take a step closer. A part of me wonders if I can find Komo there. Glancing around me, I see no one is watching. I tell myself I’ll only be gone for a moment. That I need to go and find answers.

I inch closer and allow a gust of wind to curl around me until it drags me through the wavering light. The force yanks and pulls at my skin and muscles. Darkness and stars swirl around me in a kaleidoscope. Then I’m tumbling through a second wavering wall.

Into another world.

The moment my boots sink into the crisp, brunet grass, I know I’ve entered the Spirit World. Everything appears sharper. The air almost tastes thicker.

Marc told me that the worlds are connected by shared histories, and that places where the Spirit World has crossed into ours will always maintain a stronger connection. I’m still not clear how the two worlds piece together, but obviously they do, because here I am, standing in the misty gray of a lifeless world. It isn’t hard to figure out where I am, either. The winding dusty path, the barren forest, the bone-filled stream, the dilapidated queen’s palace. This is Haemosu’s world. It’s entrenched in my memory forever.

My heart slams against my chest as the memories clatter through my mind like a
kkwaenggwari
gong. Haemosu’s screams vibrate around me; my knees buckle and I sink to the ground. I remember how the burning flames of his fire monster singed my skin, and how his claws ripped me to shreds after he transformed into a tiger.

I squeeze my fists tight and crack open my eyes. He is no longer here. I have to believe that. Even still, he lived in this place for too long, destroying it slowly in his quest for power. He craved power so much that he sucked the life force out of the trees, the water, even the buildings.

Despite the barrenness, the air drips rich as honey. I stand, realizing there’s something about this place that feels different. With each breath I take, the power of the land soaks into me. My body buzzes with energy. I’ve never felt so alive.

I should turn back. I eye the wavering wall where I stumbled out of reality. This must be the portal. I step back toward it, fear clawing my mind as past memories continue to ricochet through me. Yet somehow a greater need makes me plant my feet. There’s something about this place that feels right. Like I belong. Perhaps this place has the answers I seek.

A blast of hot air slices across my back. I spin around to face three golden dragons.

Oryonggeo.

These three must be part of the group of five dragons that drove Haemosu’s golden chariot. They’re stunning: sleek bodies glistening in the dull air, finely sculpted necks and faces, smoke puffing from their noses as they study me from ruby eyes, which are the same color as the five dragon gems that ringed the bracelet Haemosu gilded me with. These are the same dragons that clawed through Komo’s house, and the same ones that snatched Grandfather off the boat. I’d been powerless to stop them then.

I swivel to retreat, but one of the dragons snakes out a claw and catches my shirt.

Why do you return?
they speak in my mind.

Despite the grimy grayness around me, their scales glint as if covered in a thousand shimmering coins. If I were anywhere but here, I would have thought them beautiful, but my memories are too strong for those thoughts.

“Quite the welcoming committee,” I say.

You should not have come.

No kidding. I struggle against their hold. “Don’t sweat it. I’m leaving.”

A tail swoops from behind, swiping my feet from beneath me. I fall to the ground and land on my bottom. A rumble shudders over them. I think they’re laughing at me.

But since you are here
, they say,
we cannot allow you to leave.

“Are you always this cordial?”
I ask, standing.

You killed the master and left. Now the land falls to ruin. We are dying
with it
.
This is your fault.

There is no warning, no preparation for the attack. An explosion bursts in the air, creating a golden glow, blinding me. I raise my arm to shield my eyes and four claws slash across my cheek. Pain races through me like fire. I scream in shock.

On my other side, a tail smacks me in the side. I fly through the air, and the ground shakes with the impact of my fall. I moan into the dirt.

Being tossed like that back on earth would break every bone in my body. Not here. This world has its own set of rules. I grunt and spit out the chunk of dirt that managed to get into my mouth. The dragons blink their chilling red eyes and glare at me. I wonder if they’re secretly doing that mind talk to each other but leaving me out of the conversation.

I cringe as I struggle to stand, trying to bear the agony of bones popped out of their sockets, maybe even broken. I snap my neck into place and then straighten, adjusting my ribs. There’s something disconcerting about having your bones dislocated and yet still being able to walk. The last time I was here, I healed at impossible speeds. Today is no different.

“None of this is my fault,” I say, but anger rises up. “You blame me for Haemosu’s actions?” My vision blurs, I’m so ticked. I’m still paying the price for Haemosu. He’s long dead, yet even now I’m dealing with his crap.

I clench my fists and take off running. Toward them. I pump my arms, willing the pain to fade away as I charge at them. One dragon cocks its head, still not moving, while another flies away. The third screeches at me in a bloodcurdling cry, its razor-tooth-filled jaw open so wide I could run right into it. I’m kicking myself for leaving my bow on the table.

Once I’m close enough to the screeching dragon, I leap into the air and snap out a side-kick into his belly. Airborne, I twist and kick the dragon again with my other foot as I descend.

My feet touch the earth and I tumble into a series of backflips, using my momentum for extra impact when I kick the other dragon. My kick is far more powerful than I could have imagined. The dragon stumbles backward, surprise flashing across its jeweled face, and snarls. Waves of water burst from its mouth this time. There’s no escape from the flood. I hold out my hand to stop it, ducking my face behind my outstretched arm.

The blast hits my palm, but instead of drowning me, I somehow redirect the water, hitting the dragon in turn and smacking it onto the ground.

Evil thing!
The dragon chokes and wallows on the ground, trying to escape the pool of water.
What has it done?

I study my hand, shocked. How
did
I do that?

“Serves you right for attacking me out of nowhere,” I say, but my words sound more like a question than the confidence I wish to exude.

The other dragon slides over to where I stand, studying me with its huge red eyeball.
Perhaps it has the power
, it says.

“I am not an
it
,” I say. “My name is Jae Hwa. Not that it matters because I’m leaving. This place is too horrific to stay another minute.”

No!
the three dragons say at once.

If it has the power
, the bigger dragon says,
it can heal the land.

“I suggest next time someone like me comes along, don’t try to burn them with fire or cannonball them across the field. No one wants to be treated like that. Or be called an
it
, for that matter.”

The sound of wingbeats fills the air. The two missing dragons swoop above my head and let out a long screech. Wind swirls around me like a tornado, so strong I can hardly stand. I push my hands out as if to hold the winds at bay, but it’s useless. I’m trapped in their funnel.

Look what has arrived!
the dragon next to me cries.
It changed the land.

I look where the dragon points. A path of green grass, vibrant as emeralds, spreads before us. The winds die just as abruptly as they came, leaving us with absolute silence.

“Where did that come from?” I say.

You
, the dragons say as one.

I gape at them, unsure what they could mean.

It is the master
, one dragon says.

This pretty one?
another asks.
It’s too young.

Too small.

It can heal the land
, the first dragon says.
It has been given the power.

“Listen.” I hold up my hands. “You’ve got me confused with someone else. I’m not any master.”

The three dragons in the air sail down to where we stand. I’m sure all five of them are going to attack as one and incinerate me into wisps of ash, drown me, or do something else even more horrible. There’s no way I can stand against them. But they do the exact opposite. They bow before me.

It’s the master
, they say.
We are here to serve you.

Unbelievable. First they try to break every bone in my body, next they attempt to burn me to a crisp, and now they want to call me their master.

“Um.” I try to smile. “Thanks. I think.”

I touch the grass that has turned green. It’s soft and tickles my skin. With tentative fingers, I reach out and touch the brown grass next to it. I watch as the blade sparks to life beneath my fingers. Color blooms over its blade, spreading to the tip.

I jerk back my hand, shocked, and glance over at the dragons. They nod gravely, as if this is some formal event, and settle to the ground, waiting. I’ve no idea what they are waiting for.

“I’m not like Haemosu,” I say. “I’m not the next ruler.”

Only the master has the power here
, they say.

I really need to get out of here, but I can’t help but be curious. Did something happen to me when I killed Haemosu? Palk had offered me Haemosu’s lands, but I’d rejected the offer. Perhaps, even though I rejected it, the offer had never left. Regardless, the surge of power is invigorating. I take off running toward a line of bamboo trees. Once there, I slowly turn to face the truth. A path of bright-green trails from where I stand to the wavering wall of light. The dragons were right. I created that path.

I reach out and touch the bamboo tree next to me. As if by magic, the tree shimmers. The trunk brightens from a dead gray into a golden brown, the colors snaking up the tree until they reach the leaves in a burst of green.

I jerk my hand away, tucking it to my chest. An edge of fear scrapes against my nerves. I don’t like the thought of being tied to this world. It brings too many horrors with it. Too many nightmares. But what if they are right? What if I can undo all the destruction Haemosu created?

This place is completely flipping me out. Of course, when hasn’t it? When Haemosu ruled this land, he had his own bag of tricks to play on me. But now everything is different. I start running along the line of bamboo trees until I reach the thick evergreen forest. Whatever I touch sparks to life. My chest explodes with a million emotions.

I have power here.

I can do the impossible.

I am the impossible.

But if I have power, what does that mean? My heart slows with dread. Does this mean I can’t return to my world? Does this mean I’m not mortal anymore?

My eyes seek the wall of wavering light in the center of the field. The portal. It’s still there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Haemosu could come and go between his world and our world as he pleased, but he never belonged in our world and could never stay for long.

Where do I belong?