Gilded (24 page)

The strong scent of ground coffee greets me as I enter the coffee shop after school. The cozy atmosphere of cafés is one of the things I love about Korea. That and the subway system. I hate being tied down to the school bus.
There’s a lot I’m starting to like,
I realize as I move to the marble counter to order. If Haemosu hadn’t shown up to ruin my life, I might actually come to enjoy Korea. I order a chai tea, hoping it will calm my nerves, and scan the crowded café. Most of the tables are filled with coffee mugs and laptops, surrounded by students.

I spot Marc in a soft evergreen-colored chair in the back corner, a pile of books resting on a small coffee table nearby. He hasn’t seen me yet; but his glasses are on, and his forehead is scrunched like he’s reading something really good. I smile.

“Hey, Brainiac.” I thread my way to him.

He looks up and motions to the empty chair. “Glad you showed up, slowpoke. I had to beat up half the soccer team to keep your seat reserved.”

“Impressive.” I sink into the cushiony seat and push aside
a stack of books to make room for my mug. “Got enough books?”

“You can never have enough books,” he says, but his voice doesn’t have that usual playfulness to it. He sounds tired, and there are dark circles under his eyes. “How are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that. How are your eyes?”

“Never better,” he says nonchalantly; but he won’t look at me, and I get the feeling he’s lying. “But you avoided my question. How are
you
?”

I cup my hands around my mug and soak in its warmth. He deserves to know the truth. No more jokes. No more pretending everything is fine. Because it isn’t.

I need to tell him everything. I’m desperate, and there’s no one else to talk to about this. Images of Komo spin through my head. I say, “Not good. He took my aunt.”

“What?”

“Yeah. She’s—she’s—” I wave my hand through the air, not trusting my voice, which is full of unshed tears. “Haemosu took her,” I finally manage.

His jaw drops. “You’re serious.”

I nod. Silence hovers over us, and finally Marc leans back and blows out a long stream of air.

“God. I’m sorry, Jae.”

“Yeah. But I’m going to find her. Bring her back. He isn’t going to win this fight.” I had promised myself I wouldn’t get him involved any further, but one request couldn’t hurt him, right? “I need your help.”

I set my mug between two stacks of books, dig through my
bag until I find Mom’s
Samguk Yusa
and my unfinished translation of the legend of Haemosu. “I’m hoping we might find a clue here. But my Chinese kind of sucks.”

Marc takes the book with such reverence that I know he understands its value. Barely touching the pages, he flips through it, scanning the contents. “This is old,” he says. “I shouldn’t even be touching this book without gloves.” He takes my translation next. “Looks like the myth of Princess Yuhwa and Haemosu.”

My insides wiggle. Since Mom died, I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let anything hurt me like it had when I’d felt her hand grow cold in mine. I had always tried to be smartest, strongest, and toughest, never relying on other people for help. But here I am, practically pleading with Marc to help me deal with the biggest problem I’ve ever faced. And that scares me. Big-time.

Marc starts reading through the myth, pointing out each Chinese character. Our heads nearly touch as we lean over the text. It’s hard to focus on anything other than his scent and the sharp lines of his profile. I jot down notes in my notebook, hoping that will keep me focused.

“There’s nothing new here,” I say once we’re finished. “Haemosu kidnaps Princess Yuhwa, takes her in his chariot, she escapes using her hairpin, and he never stops looking for her.” I toss my notepad on the table.

“If I remember correctly, there’s another legend somewhere here about Haemosu.” He takes off his glasses and starts rummaging through his pile. “Here it is. It says that Haemosu, a demigod, wanted to become as great as the immortals.” Marc chuckles. “This worried the immortals, so they asked the
Guardian of the East, the Blue Dragon, to create a bow that could kill Haemosu. Just having this weapon kept Haemosu in check, because it was a reminder to him of his mortality.”

“Wait a second. I remember you mentioning this the night Good Enough played.”

He nods, his brows pulling together as I dig through my backpack for my phone. I scroll through my pictures until I come to the one with the bow Grandfather had given me. The one that survived the fire.

“You think you own the Blue Dragon’s weapon? That’s a big deal. It’s not like you can just go down the street and pick one up.”

“I think we should take this myth as fact,” I say.

“It’s a stretch. A crazy stretch.”

“When Grandfather gave me the bow, he seemed to think it was special because it didn’t burn in the fire.”

“It does have the Blue Dragon’s image carved in it….”

I skim my fingers over the engraving as an idea forms. “What if my bow really is from the Blue Dragon? What if the next time I see Haemosu, I pierce him with an arrow from that bow and kill him? Without him in power over his land, my ancestors would be free, and so would Komo. And even if this isn’t really the bow of the Blue Dragon, Haemosu doesn’t know that. I could use it as leverage.”

“Now you’re thinking.”

“It’s a long shot.” I grin. “No pun intended.”

Marc studies my bracelet. “Listen, you have only two more chances before the last of the five eyes turns red. What if you fail? It’s a huge risk.”

“You sound like Komo. She wanted me to leave the country. I just need to be ready for him the next time he comes. But I can’t go around carrying a bow all the time.”

I pull up the Sejong Center website on my phone and scroll down to the exhibit items from the Koguryo kingdom. Sure enough, the amulet Grandfather was talking about is displayed, the
samjoko
resting in the bronze circle, touching the eight ball points around the edge. My pulse races as I show it to Marc.

“The
samjoko
,” he says. “Considered to be more powerful than the dragon or the phoenix.”

“That’s what the plaque at the museum says.” I stare at the photo for a moment. “Remember when you found me in the forest at the ski trip?” He nods. “That was right after the first time I entered the Spirit World. When I was there, there was a palace filled with—”

My throat tightens, and my eyes fill. Marc slides his hand over mine, his fingers warm compared to the cold memory.

“I think they were the souls of my ancestors. They called after me. ‘Princess,’ they said.”

“So they think you’re his next Princess Yuhwa? That’s creepy.”

“Yeah, I guess it is. The thought of my female relatives throughout the generations locked up in that awful place. I can’t stand it. And now Komo, too. I have to get them out. Grandfather wants to steal the amulet because he believes it’s a key into the Spirit World. He plans to go and kill Haemosu himself. I can’t let him do that. Haemosu will kill him.”

“No.” Marc crosses his arms, shaking his head. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a bad idea. You should leave the
country like your aunt suggested. Nothing good comes from messing around with the supernatural. Trust me.”

“It’s the only way. There’s something about Haemosu’s world that connects with me, like I’m a part of it in some way. And every time I enter his world, I get stronger.” I shudder, thinking of the real reason.
I’m slowly becoming more a part of that world than this one.
“I think I can stop him.”

“I don’t like it. My vote is for you to move back to the U.S.”

“Convince my dad of that,” I say. “Besides, it’s probably too late anyway. Haemosu always seems to be one step ahead of me.”

I stare out the window, where a fog has settled, heavy and thick as if it’s about to rain. “And after he took Komo, he threatened to do the same thing to everyone else I love. I have no choice.”

“No one is asking you to be the heroine.” Marc pushes away his coffee mug and leans so close I can see golden specks in his eyes. “You don’t have to be the one to save the day. Besides, we’re all here for you. You don’t have to do anything alone.”

“My aunt believed we make our own destinies. I’ve been making this my destiny my whole life. Which is why I should attack first. He’ll never expect me to come on my own.”

“One problem, Fighter Girl. The museum will never lend you that in a thousand years.”

I smile. “I wasn’t planning on asking.”

“No,” I tell Marc. “You’ve been a huge help, but I need to do the rest of this on my own.”

He crosses his arms. “There’s no way I’m going to let you do this by yourself.”

“And I can’t let you get kicked out of school. Or watch you get hurt like everyone else who gets within ten feet of me. So no.” I start shoving books into my backpack.

“You need to think this through.”

This is the problem with brainiacs. They want to plan, analyze, and speculate. “There isn’t time. I have two hours to do what I need to do.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for the door.

“Jae Hwa!” Marc calls through the coffee shop. He runs, sliding past me as I’m pulling open the door, and blocks the exit.

Unbelievable. He’s going to force me to knock him flat on the ground. “Last chance to move.”

“What if I’ve already got a plan?” He stretches his arm across
the doorway so I can’t exit. Cold air rushes into the coffee shop from outside.

“That’d be interesting if there
was
a plan,” I tell Marc, “but there isn’t.”

“Listen. I’m going to help you, whether you like it or not. I have connections from the times I worked there. And a season pass to the museum.”

“A season pass to jail, you mean.”

“Funny.” He isn’t laughing. “I know where they keep their keys. I know where the back door is. And I know where the power box is.”

Power box? I tap my foot, thinking, and bite my lip as the reality sinks in. I can’t do this theft alone. I’ve got no plan. No experience. I need his help, and I’m desperate to rescue Komo.

What if I could make it so Marc is out of sight, away from me when I take the amulet? Then Haemosu wouldn’t even know Marc was a part of this.

“Fine,” I finally say. “You can come.”

Marc grins, but it quickly turns into a frown as his eyes center on something behind me.

“What?” I follow his gaze.

“Let’s get out of here.” He grabs my arm, practically pushing me out the doorway.

“Wait,” I say. “What about your stuff?”

“I got my backpack. I’ll get the rest later.”

His jaw tightens, which sends my own pulse racing, and then he breaks into a jog down the cobblestone sidewalk. I peer over my shoulder, and that’s when I see him.

The same dokkaebi that met me in the subway station, coming out of the coffee shop, his red, bulging eyes focused on me. He saunters after us, so slowly that it seems he’d never catch us; but as I turn back around, he’s suddenly ahead of us, standing by the bus stop and twirling his club. Both Marc and I jerk to a stop. No one in the bus line notices the troll.

“Don’t look at him,” Marc whispers into my ear. “He’s been stalking you at school all day.”

“What? How are you able to see him? I know for a fact that the dokkaebi isn’t interested in you.”

“Let’s just say my eyes don’t hurt, but I’m seeing things in a whole new light.”

I can’t stop my mouth from hanging open. “What are you saying?”

Marc slides his hand in mine. I don’t pull away. “I’m saying I can see
things
. You know, supernatural stuff. Whatever happened to me back at the locker did something to my sight.”

“No. Tell me you’re lying.”

“I wish.”

“Pretty girl,” the dokkaebi says. I can hear him perfectly from ten feet away even with the traffic buzzing by us. “Haemosu wants pretty girl now. Before we go, remember our deal?”

“You made a deal with him?” Marc gapes at me like I’m insane.

“Absolutely not!”

“The belly of the moon, pretty girl,” the dokkaebi says. “Belly of moon. You get my treasure.”

The dokkaebi reaches out his oozing arm to grab me. A growl cuts the air as Haechi dives over my head and pounces on the dokkaebi. The dokkaebi shrieks, and in a torrent of colors, he disappears.

The bus screeches to a stop at our curb, slush spewing. There, painted on the side of the bus, is a giant picture of Haechi that the tourism office has been plastering across the city.

If they only knew.

“Get on!” Haechi tells wide-eyed Marc and me.

Marc is the first to break free of his stupor. He pulls me forward, cutting in front of everyone else in line, and the two of us clamber onto the bus.

“What the hell just happened back there?” Marc says. “That was Haechi helping us, wasn’t it?”

I nod in a slight daze. The gremlin’s words echo through my mind: the belly of the moon, belly of the moon. What is he talking about? And what has happened to Marc?

“Why is the Haechi helping you? And why does the dokkaebi think you made a deal with him?” Marc whispers over my shoulder as we work our way to the back of the bus.