Young-hee and the Pullocho (26 page)

Samjogo gripped his hyeopdo.

Tiger forgot his bruises and stood guard in front of Young-hee and Samjogo. “I can smell them,” he said, “Ghosts are in the air, all around us—along with their horse-backed Queen.”

“You are being chased by the Ghost Queen?” said the right lion.

“Yes,” said Young-hee, as the shadows shifted, maybe closer, in the evening gloom “They've been after me ever since I started my journey.”

“The Ghost Queen is no friend of our ladies,” said the left lion, suddenly commanding, “Pyeonbok,
open up!
”

“
Pyeon
-what…?” More shadows, moving closer.

“I wasn't talking to you, but to the
doontae
—the latch guardians—behind this gate.”

With a heavy, sliding rumble, both gates swung open, revealing a small lobby and another set of doors. Young-hee, Samjogo, and Tiger stepped inside, but not before Young-hee saw several ghosts gliding eerily toward them at frightening speed, black hair covering their pale faces, white robes fluttering.

And then just as the doors slammed shut, something smashed against them, hard. “The ghosts?” she asked.

“Don't you worry about those ghouls,” said a good natured voice on the door. Not a brass lion this time, but a wooden bat, one of two that supported the thick wood latch. “Once this door is closed, nothing passes without our say-so.”

The door thumped again, followed by the sickening sound of fingernails against the wood. Young-hee shuddered.

“Oh, thank you so much,” said Young-hee, bowing slightly, “uh, Pyeonbok.” The two bats twittered appreciation.

The undecorated vestibule was cramped for three people (well, two and a large tiger).
What now,
Young-hee wondered as an inner door clicked and groaned opened, filling the vestibule with lantern light. Holding the lamp was a thin, young woman with black hair and an expressionless face.

“Welcome, travelers,” she said. “Few guests make it past our overly zealous guardians—but you are welcome in our home, and protected by the rules of hospitality. Tiger, it is good to see you after so long. All of you, please, enter peacefully.” Leaving the door open behind her, the lithe woman slid inside, taking the light with her.

Young-hee looked for guidance. Visibly worried, Tiger stepped into the hanok, followed by Samjogo, looking typically bemused. Young-hee shuddered at what was scratching and banging on the outside doors, then followed her friends into the old building.

Samjogo slowed and leaned in close to her ear. “Remember, none of these spirits are to be trusted,” he whispered. “Gumiho least of all.” Then he straightened up and walked on with seeming cheer.

Past the second doors, Young-hee was surprised to find a brightly lit and luxurious hanok. As Tiger said, it was much nicer on the inside—larger, too. Bright paper lanterns hung from the eaves, bathing the
madang
courtyard in a warm, golden glow. The house formed a horseshoe in front of them, then sprawled back into a conglomeration of rooms. The house frame was warm-hued wood, the walls white plaster, and the wooden sliding doors backed with immaculate white paper. Around the interior was a wooden path, about three feet above the ground, with a series of gentle steps leading up to it. The largest, lushest persimmon tree Young-hee had ever seen sat in the center of the madang. She had seen traditional Korean hanok before, from lavishly restored museum pieces in the heart of Seoul, to ramshackle dives that survived high-rise development projects in unfashionable neighborhoods. But never one of this size and opulence.

Setting her lantern on the wooden path, their escort clasped her hands together modestly. She had a strangely serene look, with her black, straight hair slicked back and held by a long silver pin. She wore a traditional hanbok, covered by a long, pale red
durumagi
jacket with elaborate gold trim. “I hope your journey was not too arduous,” she said. “It is no small thing to be chased by the Ghost Queen and her terrible servants. But I think you will find our home safe.” She glanced briefly at Young-hee and Samjogo before turning to Tiger. “Tiger you know all the parties here. Won't you make the introductions?”

A soft but slightly menacing rumble accompanied Tiger's “Of course.” Through gritted teeth (as much long fangs can grit), he said “Ms. Young-hee, Samjogo, I would like you to meet Sanyeo, one of the three ladies of this great house. Sanyeo, like all the others, is one of our realm's oldest spirits. And Sanyeo, this is Young-hee and the Samjogo, my travel companions. I met them only recently, but they have already have shown me much kindness and generosity.” Everyone bowed, polite and a little uncomfortable.

“Thank you for letting us in,” said Young-hee. “I've never seen such an amazing hanok.” Young-hee wondered why the quiet woman was so creepy, then realized—Sanyeo never blinked.
I guess she does look a bit like a snake
.

“Thank you for your kind words. It is good to meet you all.” Sanyeo's words slid smooth and seductively, and smiling her empty smile, she called “Sisters, come greet our guests.”

A door slid open, and two more women emerged from the labyrinthine building. The first was huge, with broad shoulders, a thick neck, and big hands. She wore a heavy, casual hanbok, in brown and green tones, finely crafted, but designed more for comfort than to impress. Her face hung heavy, as if all she had ever known were sorrows. Behind her came a sharp-faced woman with a red-tinged her hair and a smile as cold as the rivers of Darang Cave. Young-hee thought her hanbok the most fantastic she had ever seen—the finest silk, jet-black with blood-red accents and matte black embroidery.

“Ah, the travelers we've heard so much about,” she said.

“It seems the star signs were true,” said the large woman. “I apologize, sisters, for doubting.”

“Greetings, Tiger,” said the woman in black, projecting like an actor in a large theater. Behind her, shadows flickered furiously, as if a great many tails waved before the lanterns. “It is always a treat when we get together. So glad you got your tail out of the ice.”

Tiger winced a little at what Young-hee assumed was yet another past humiliation. “Hello, Gumiho. We thank you for granting us your hospitality.” Young-hee wondered if he was thanking her for the protection or reminding her of it.

It was an odd threesome, alike yet totally different. Their interactions were both casual and uncomfortable.
Family
, Young-hee thought.

“Hello again, Tiger,” said the large woman. “It has truly been ages—not since the cave. Why have you ignored me for so long?” She knelt and put her face near his and ran her massive hands through the lush fur around his cheeks and neck. “Truly a ‘tiger out of the mountains,' aren't you?”

“Ungnyeo, Hwanung's precious gift has been a great boon, I see,” said Tiger, struggling to keep his manners as the large woman pawed at him. “You make a fine human. Although I can't help but notice a whiff of garlic.”

Embarrassed, Ungnyeo stopped rubbing Tiger's fur and turned to the other guests. “Greetings, bear daughter,” she said to Young-hee. “It has been so long since I've talked with any of my children. Especially my true children from the mud world.”

“You can tell?”

“Of course, a mother always knows her children,” she said with a sigh. Then gazed at Samjogo. “And greetings to you, too, bear-son.”

Young-hee gasped. Samjogo looked human, but she never thought he was. Samjogo, however, just laughed. “I'm afraid the wise old Bear is mistaken. I am Samjogo, the three-legged bird of power. Famed across the heavens for my skills and might.”

“No, bear-son. I can recognize my offspring, but call yourself what you wish.”

“Well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, we'll let our guests rest and freshen up,” said Sanyeo, ringing a small bell.

“Uh, please, Ms. Sanyeo, sisters,” interjected Young-hee. “We've come hoping you can help us. I'm looking for …”

But Sanyeo interrupted her with a gesture. “Plenty of time later. For now, please enjoy our hospitality. Our servants will show you to your rooms, where you will find warm water and anything you need after your long, tiring journey. We dine in eight
gak
, when you can tell us news from across the land, and why the stars are so interested in such diverse travelers.”

“What's a
gak
?” whispered Young-hee to Samjogo.

“About fifteen of your minutes, so eight gak is a couple of hours.”

As Sanyeo spoke, a troop of servants appeared, all small, but otherwise almost comically varied: rusty green, or brown and earthen, or bronze. Some shone like polished glass, others looked dirty and tarnished. Some seemed quite human, others beastly or monstrous; still others seemed an odd combination of both. They ushered Young-hee and her friends ever deeper into the labyrinthine structure. With each slap of a sliding door Young-hee worried they were entering a trap.

The servants made a few noises and only responded with a token “yes, yes” or “there you go.”
Like drones
, Young-hee thought, and realized why they were so mismatched and odd—they were living sculptures, made variously of clay, bronze, brass, celadon, stone, and possibly of gold. All moved stiffly, like puppets.

“Golems,” said Samjogo, noting her stares.

The servants showed them to three rooms surrounding a small, common courtyard, brightly lit by lanterns. Young-hee was relieved they were together.

“Water,” said one clay servant, pointing. “Blankets.”

“You, there,” said a sad-looking celadon servant, showing Samjogo to his room. But Young-hee grabbed his wrist.

“You're human,” she said. “A real-world human, just like me.”

He held her gaze, annoyed. “I wouldn't listen to old Bear. All those spirits are liars with their own agendas. I am Samjogo, the three-legged crow, raised by the fairies of Three Rivers, and truest of the true bone. I am true to my word.” He gently lifted her hand and retired.

Young-hee was looking forward to a good rest and warm food. Maybe even something delicious. A wooden servant opened the door, and Young-hee tumbled in, sprawling over a stack of blankets and pillows. The room was exquisite, with thick pillars of fine pine, intricately carved window frames, and floors of the thickest oiled paper Young-hee had ever seen. “Ah, pillows,” she sighed and immediately fell into sleep that was ended only when the same wooden servant repeatedly poked her. “I'm not sleeping,” she immediately protested.

“Dinner. You'll be late.” It continued poking.

“
Jigyeowo
,” she snapped. “I'm coming.”

“New clothes,” it said, pointing at a pile. “Hot water. Bath,” pointing at a large tub.
How had the servants brought the full tub without waking her?
After the long journey, it was inviting. “Hurry,” the servant urged.

“Okay, but you've got to leave,” said Young-hee, feeling modest. The wooden creature protested, but Young-hee brushed him out with a busy rush of hands. The hot water felt as glorious as it was painful, and as she scrubbed until a lifetime of dirt and grime slid off her skin and hair. She wanted to soak forever, but the servants' rap-ping on the door broke through her relaxation.

Toweling off, she eyed the laid out clothes. The hanbok, all deep blues and reds, was soft, like the finest linen, better than silk. Young-hee didn't think she could have endured a long meal in a suffocating, formal hanbok, with its poufy skirt and tight, wrapping layers, but this one was remarkably informal, with a relaxed skirt, a shirt, and a loose-fitting
jogeori
jacket. It fit perfectly, and felt like a dream. Looking in the silver mirror, she thought,
Not bad.
“Okay, I'm ready.”

The servant made a noise resembling exasperation, but said only, “Your clothes, clean, tomorrow,” and led her through a maze of corridors to a large dining room. Everyone was there already, waiting.

“Uh, sorry I'm late,” she said sheepishly. Everyone stared, making her feel self-conscious, except for Tiger, who was busy eating, chewing and slurping with enthusiasm. “Thank you for the clothes. They are really lovely.”

“Oooh, fancy,” said Samjogo, teasing her like a big brother. “I had no idea I had promised to save a princess.” He was trying to keep the mood light, but Young-hee could see his attention was really on the three sisters.

“If I recall, I saved you.”

“Indeed, scarcely the same girl,” noted Sanyeo, now changed into a green and pink hanbok with light blue trim. “We've been making small talk as we waited—well, as most of us waited. Please, come sit by your friends and we shall dine and talk.”

It was a great, long wooden table, low to the ground like Koreans tables are. The walls were decorated with nine images from nature: a deer drinking at a stream, a pine tree forest, bamboo, a cloud, a crane, a turtle, a rock, water, and the sun. One panel was strangely empty. Everyone, save Tiger, sat on maroon cushions around a table filled with a vast number of small bowls and pots, each holding different foods. Young-hee's eyes opened wide as she sat between Samjogo and Tiger, whose greedy breach of etiquette clearly annoyed his hosts. But he was as oblivious to their scorn as he was to Young-hee's outfit.