Young-hee and the Pullocho (33 page)

The wall of trees guarding the perimeter had made entering the forest a tight squeeze. But once inside, white and lonely trees like young birches were spaced out, with little brush on the ground. So it was easy to walk wherever they wanted. There just was no path, or sign to guide them. Just sameness and stillness, a pleasant emptiness stretching as far as they could see.

They had entered in a panicked rush to escape the spirits chasing them, but after a few meters they slowed to a walk, their sense of the danger melting away. “Shouldn't we be running?” said Young-hee.

“Yes, yes, the Great Forest is not safe for us,” said Samjogo, sounding more bored than hurried. “Let's catch our breath, and speed up in a few moments.”

And so they walked. There were no sounds of animals, no birds, no wind rustling through the leaves. Just a beautiful, vacant forest. Peaceful, like the beginning of a good nap.

The sameness made it impossible to know the right direction. Samjogo and Young-hee tried climbing the trees, but the upper branches were too weak to let them get high enough to see over the forest canopy.

At one point the trees parted, giving way to a small, shallow pond. Young-hee felt as if she had read about the scene in a book. “Do you think I could get back home if I jumped into the pond?” she asked. “Or maybe into yet another world?”

“It's just a pond,” said Tiger, with a yawn.

In fact, they were all yawning, more and more. The soft, grassy ground looked ever more comfortable, and Young-hee contemplated a nap—just a short one, of course.

“
Young-hee!
”

Samjogo's sharp call snapped her to attention.
Did I nod off while walking?
she wondered, happy to have avoided a tree. “Sorry, just a little sleepy,” she said sheepishly.

“Yes, we all seem strangely tired,” said Samjogo, blinking hard to force himself awake.

“I don't see the problem,” said Tiger, yawning again. “The forest is perfectly safe and peaceful. We could sleep until we're feeling refreshed.”

“No, Tiger, we need to keep going. We can sleep in a proper camp once it gets dark. Or did you forget who was following us?”

Tiger grunted a reluctant acknowledgement and kept walking. “I don't hear anyone following us,” he said. But they were all slowing down, finding it harder to continue.

Finally, Tiger plopped to the ground and curled up, his eyes closed, his mouth smiling. “Tiger,
no!
” said Young-hee. “Don't sleep. This isn't natural.”

“Just a short nap,” he said, without opening his eyes. “Then we'll walk more.”

“No, we need to keep going.”

“You keep going and I'll catch up in a bit.”

There was no moving him. Tiger was out cold. Young-hee envied him. “I wish I could sleep, too. Just for five minutes?”

“No, Young-hee,” said Samjogo. “Something or someone is trying to stop us from moving forward. We have to keep going.”

“But what about Tiger?”

Samjogo shouted into Tiger's ear, but got no reaction. He pushed hard on the big cat's hindquarters. He even tugged Tiger's whiskers, earning a reflexive paw-swat in the chest. Still Tiger would not wake.

“I fear we have to leave him behind,” said Samjogo. “Whatever magic is operating here has him firmly in its grasp. We need to get away”—Samjogo yawned big, too—“We can come back for him once we are safe.”

Young-hee agreed, so they set off without their friend. She steeled her senses, determined not to succumb to the magic. But the deeper they moved into the forest, the worse the sleepiness. Soon it began to rain—not Nwaegongdo's cold, nasty rain, but warm, relaxing drops that turned the air sultry and thick. She put on her jacket to stay dry, but the sound of raindrops on its hood was ever more hypnotic.

They kept walking, drifting in and out of strange sleep. One would catch the other nodding off and shout a warning. Each drift grew deeper and harder to wake from.

At one point, as dreams were sneaking up, Young-hee snapped awake. At first she couldn't see Samjogo—sleepwalking had separated them by a good twenty meters—as good as a mile in a forest. Young-hee considered herself lucky to spot her friend.

She and Samjogo kept going, forcing each step.

When she woke again, she was leaning against a tree and, judging by the trail of spittle running down the rain-soaked trunk, she had stopped walking for some time. Beginning to cross back into sleep and dreams, her thoughts floated to Bum, and that shot her awake.

She stood up, wiped her mouth, and shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Samjogo!” she shouted. “Where are you?” No answer. Just stillness and silence, punctuated by the pulse of rain.

Young-hee felt panic rising up again.
Where was he? He couldn't be far away.
She ran about, trying to retrace her steps, calling out. Still no sign. At least panic would help keep her awake, she noted wryly. “Samjogo?” she cried again. Nothing.

There was nothing to do but keep walking. Perhaps he was ahead and she'd run into him.

So Young-hee continued, fighting off overpowering drowsiness.
How large is the Great Forest, anyhow?
She realized she had no idea how long it would take to the other side—or what awaited her there. But without options, she kept walking.

After what seemed ages—although she had lost all sense of time—she saw something moving ahead.
There he is
, she thought. But relief quickly dissipated.
That's not Samjogo
. It was a man, walking slowly toward her. He clearly had seen her. It was too late to hide.

The stranger stepped through the trees, right up to her. Tall and elegant, broad-shouldered with a back ramrod-straight, his face was obscured by a large hat, his body by a flowing
durumagi
overcoat.
Who was he? What was he doing in the woods?

“Greetings, stranger,” said the man. “Not many outsiders try passing through our forest.”

He looked oddly familiar, but it was hard to see him clearly. “Uh, hello. Yes, my friends and I seem to have gotten lost,” she said.

“Your friends?”

“Yeah. First we got lost together. Now I've lost them, too.”

“Few outsiders try passing through our forest, and even fewer succeed.”

Well, that sounds ominous.
“Oh. I hope I'm not … trespassing or anything like that. I didn't mean to be rude or break your rules.”
Where have I seen him before?
, she kept wondering. “Uh, do you think you could help me out? Maybe point me in the right direction?”

“Why are you here?”

“We were trying to get to the Sacred City. Some … bad people chased us across the Hungry River, and we entered the Great Forest to hide. We were told that the Sacred City lies on the other side of this forest.” Young-hee wasn't sure why she was so honest. “I was on a quest, to help my little brother. But there are no paths in your woods, and it is so hard to know where to go.”

“Yes, it is easy to get lost here. But the Sacred City is in that direction.” He pointed behind him, just to Young-hee's left.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” She got ready to resume walking.

“However, I would not advise it.”

“Oh?”
There's always a hitch
, she grumbled silently.

“Trying to leave the forest seldom works well. I recommend going that way”—he pointed to her right—“deeper, into its heart.”

“Deeper into the forest?”

“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes you need to get more lost before you can find your way out.”

Young-hee recalled similar advice before. If she had learned anything in Strange Land, it was that the direct, most logical route was rarely the best.

“Into the heart…”

The man nodded. “If you go straight that way, you will come to a stream. Follow it to a house. There you should find the help you need.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Young-hee, straining to see where the man had been pointing. It looked the same as any other part of the forest. “Could you tell me who you are? So I can tell the people in the house who sent me?”

But when she turned back, he was gone. The forest was deathly quiet again. She nearly called out “
Jigyeowo,
” but caught herself. Strange Land had thrown her another odd obstacle. She could handle it.

She considered choosing the most direct way out, but took the stranger's advice, turned right and resumed walking.

After a while, Young-hee began to worry that she had not followed the man's directions properly. Or perhaps he had lied. But too sleepy to think, she pushed forward.

And, then, there it was—a small brook, winding lazily through the forest. It didn't look very deep, and despite the rain was perfectly clear and gentle. Plus there seemed something strange about the riverbed—it looked … smooth.

Young-hee walked right into the water. A few inches deep, it reached just above her shoes. The bottom was smooth, white, and hard, like marble, although luckily not as slippery.
This is very odd.
Walking in the middle of the brook, she followed its twists and turns downstream.

Right around then, the rain stopped. On the other side of the river were countless bamboo trees, their long, thin trunks reaching high into the air. The soft murmur of the water was the only sound.
Maybe having wet feet is waking me up a bit because I don't feel so sleepy any more
, she thought. In perhaps a mile, she saw the house—a simple hanok, good for a small family.

Stepping out of the stream, Young-hee walked to the front gate and knocked using the iron ring. It was just a ring, not a biting animal. After a few moments, there was a sound from inside, and an old, thin man opened the door. Long whiskers clung to his face like ivy on an aged stone wall.
He looks like an old, cracked piece of bamboo
, she noted.

“Uh, hello. Sorry to bother you. I'm trying to get out of this forest, and a man I met back there”—she pointed behind her—“said I should follow the river to a house and ask for help.”

“Ah, yes. Very good,” he said. “I've been waiting a long time for you.”

“Oh, sorry? I came as soon as I could. I think it was just an hour or so.”

“No, you don't understand. I've been waiting a long time for you, Miss Young-hee. Please, come with me.” Without another word, the man took a jade, nine-segmented walking stick from his home, closed the door behind him, and led Young-hee into the woods, away from the stream. Young-hee wanted to ask about leaving the forest, but somehow the thought, light as a shadow, kept slipping away, so she just followed him.

They walked quietly for a mile or so until at last they came to a slight hill where the trees thinned into a large clearing. The entire hillside was filled by an immense palace. Even from the outside, with great walls surrounding it, the building was spectacular. The parapets were covered with colorful jewels, precious stones, and exotic crystals. The roofs of the buildings inside the walls were made of beautiful, ornate ceramic tiles, curling in long, baroque eaves that spread like fir trees. The main gate of the palace was open. The old man led Young-hee to the gate and stopped.

“I can go no further. But you are invited to enter,” he said.

“But whose palace is it? Who's inviting me?”

The old man offered no answers. “In the great hall, you will find the lord of the palace. You must talk with him,” he said.

Entering cautiously, she found wooden halls, pavilions and residences around a courtyard of white stone bricks. To one side was a great pool, surrounded by bamboo trees, where myriad birds swam and perched.
The same ones Samjogo and I saw a few days ago?
All the palace buildings were beautiful, with curling eaves and thick, wooden beams painted red; elaborate green, blue, and red designs covered the halls.

But only one building could be the great hall. Large as a soccer field, and three times higher the others, it loomed in the center of the palace grounds. Each floor was set off by flaring, curling eaves. The hall rested on a ten-meter high stone base topped with balustrades, each carved in the shape of a different animal. The Gyeongbokgung and Deoksugung palaces Young-hee had seen in Seoul looked like mud huts in comparison.

As she walked through the grounds, she realized it was full of forest fairies, all so slight and beautiful in their hanbok of earth-toned greens and browns. They looked at her, nodded respectfully, then resumed their work.

She climbed the stone steps to the great hall's entrance, marked by a large marble table holding a jade brazier of burning incense. Inside, hundreds of fairies in scholarly robes sat studying at low tables running across the cavernous hall. One of the tables pointed to the hall's deep heart. Young-hee passed row after row of studying fairies until the tables came to an end.