The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea (16 page)

 

“Mina, watch out!” Namgi pushes
me to the side, then leaps out of the way as the sea snake whips its tail downward, piercing the cobblestones where we were standing. Namgi's the first to scramble to his feet. He races across the street toward me, but the snake lashes its tail to the side, catching and hurling him against a building.

“Namgi!” I scream, rushing forward.

“Stay back!” Namgi shouts. He lifts his face, and I stumble to a halt.
Th
e irises of his eyes are bleeding outward, black creeping over the white. A shadow falls over his body, obscuring his features. His shape darkens and warps, then begins to elongate. Spears of darkness shoot out from his body, and a terrible, in-human cry roars from within the shadowy depths.

Above, the sea snake grows agitated, lashing its tail back and forth. I leap behind a crumbled wall to avoid a blow that would sever my spirit from my body.

Sounds of battle crash from across the market, where more Imugi converge upon Shin and Kirin.

Abruptly Namgi's roar cuts off. I whip my head in his direction. Slivers of shadow drift from his body like smoke from a fire. Where the curly-haired boy once was lies a great sea snake coiled upon itself. With a low rumble, its long, sinuous body begins to unwind and stretch, reaching its full, incredible length. Black and red scales flicker in the torchlight.

Th
e words Namgi spoke to me while strolling through the market ring in my ears.
In my soul form, I am a powerful water snake. Like a dragon, but without its magic.
Yet Namgi's soul form appears different from the Imugi that hovers above us, with its serpentlike features, slitted nostrils, and red eyes. Namgi's features are that of a dragon. He has a narrower snout and smooth, glimmering scales. His eyes are his own, a deep black with that ever-present spark of mischief.

Raising his head, Namgi lets out a harrowing cry. Red light crawls up his throat and erupts from his mouth in black fire, catching the enemy Imugi in its blast. Namgi takes to the air, rising as if lifted by the wind itself.
Th
e two Imugi collide, snapping their powerful jaws. Namgi's teeth shred through the smaller snake's brittle skin. Fat droplets of viscous blood drip from great wounds, sizzling upon impact with the earth.

My attention is diverted from the battle by the sharp sound of something fast approaching, a whizzing in the air. On instinct I duck.
Th
e bolt of a crossbow flies over my head, lodging in a wooden plank. Atop a roof across the street, a figure crouches—the weasel-like thief from the first night. He meets my gaze with a sneer, looking smug even though he missed.

Th
en I remember his partner, the bearlike thief. Arms wrap
around my neck, hauling me off the ground and dragging me backward into the shadows of a building. I claw at the viselike grip, but my attacker's strength is too great. I struggle to breathe, my arms weakening, my vision blackening at the edges.

Suddenly the bearlike thief releases me, howling with pain. I twist around to catch a blurred glimpse of Mask leaping from his back, where she's embedded a knife to the hilt.

“Come, Mina,” she shouts, grabbing my hand. We sprint through a maze of streets. Above us, Namgi and his brethren fight in a vicious battle.

Every now and then I see a face peeking from behind a window, quickly closing shut as Mask and I hurtle past. When we've run far enough, Mask darts into a building, pulling me in with her.

I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. We're in a pawnshop, the narrow shelves packed with an assortment of items—pottery, paper, and even firecrackers stuffed into woven baskets. Mask hurries over to a barrel and pulls out two daggers.

She hands one to me, the blade twice the length of my knife. “Do you know how to use this?”

“A little,” I say, testing the weight of it in my hand. “My grandmother taught me.”

Mask smiles at that, her eyes squinting through the holes of the mask.
Th
e pattering of feet on the street outside gives a short warning before Dai hurries into the room, Miki on his back.

“Are you all right, Mina?” he says. “Is she all right, Mask?”

“She's fine. And I'm fine, too, thank you for asking!”

Miki stares at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“It's dangerous for you two to be here,” I say. Miki might be an infant, but Dai's just a child himself. “For now, go hide.”

Dai doesn't argue. He moves to the corner at the back of the shop, crouching down and humming a soft lullaby when Miki starts to whimper. Together, Mask and I pile baskets in front of the children to conceal them from view.

Across the shop the Red String of Fate flutters, curving to the left. Like Namgi, Shin and Kirin must be engaging with the Imugi. My stomach twists, fear like a dagger, to think of Shin fighting against those monstrous beasts.

Th
ere's a loud crash at the front of the store.
Th
e light of a lantern sweeps over the dark interior of the shop.

“Little bird,” the voice of the bearlike thief croons. “For running away, you've earned a slow death. Your friend, an even slower one.”

Once the thieves meant to steal my soul. Now the bear and the weasel are assassins, meant to snuff me out entirely.

Mask taps my shoulder, gaining my attention. She points to herself and the right row of shelves, then to me and the left. I nod to indicate I understand. Moving silently, we part ways, going separately through the cluttered store. I keep close to the floor, hidden from view by wooden chests and stacked crates. At the end of the row I press my back against a shelf, peering around it to see the assassin standing in front of the door, a sword in one hand, lantern in the other.

“It seems you're wanted dead by quite a number of people in this realm. Lord Crane, for one, but also the great mistress whom
the Imugi serve. What have you done, little bird, to attract the ire of a goddess?”

It's a question I'd like to know the answer to myself.

Mask lets out a loud battle cry, leaping down from a high shelf.
Th
e bear-assassin twists around, raising his sword.
Th
eir weapons clash, the sound ringing out like a bell.

Quickly Mask falls to the floor, rolling and slicing her dagger across his legs. Crying out, he drops the lantern, where it shatters upon a stack of scrolls, setting them on fire. Before Mask can slip away, he reaches and grabs her by the braid, yanking her head back. Her mask slips, and for a moment I glimpse rosy cheeks and a full mouth, bared in a grimace.

Screaming my own battle cry, I rush forward. He lets go of Mask to meet my attack. I feel the impact of our clashed weapons in a sharp pain rippling up my arm. All around us the fire now rages into an inferno.

“Mina!” I turn to see Mask has recovered and now holds a pile of firecrackers, her intent clear.

Th
e assassin moves for another strike, and this time my borrowed dagger shatters upon contact. With a triumphant grin, he raises his sword.

Dai springs forward, grabs the arm of the bear-assassin, and bites down hard. Howling, the assassin drops his sword. Quickly I grab it, plunging it through his heavy robes and into the floorboards.

“Now!” I shout.

Mask throws the firecrackers into the fire, and they go off with a crackling boom.

We barrel out of the front, half-singed and coughing from the heavy smoke, as the store goes up in flames.

Outside, I hold Dai and Miki close. If it weren't for them and Mask, I would have surely been lost.

“Hurry.” Mask pulls us to a stand. “We can't stay out here on the street. We need to find shelter.”

Dai takes my hand, and together we follow Mask, who's already a distance ahead, peering around a corner.

Suddenly she turns, a look of panic etched onto her grandmother mask.

“Look out!” she screams.

A huge sea snake erupts from between the buildings to our right. Its tail whips out, knocking me to one side, Dai and Miki to the other.

My body slams into the wall of a building. Dust rises around me, and I cough, disoriented, my ears dully ringing. A cry of pain shakes me out of my stupor. Dai.
Miki
. I scramble to my feet.

A short distance away, the snake has the two of them cornered against a building, caged in on either side by its coiling body.
Th
ey're trapped. I see the moment Dai realizes the same. His hand darts to his shoulder. Quickly he unties the knots of his sack, swinging Miki around and cradling her against his chest. He turns to the wall of the building, baring his back to the great snake. I watch, horrified as Dai leans over Miki, blocking her body with his own.

Th
e snake lifts its tail, slashing it downward.

“No!” I scream.

Dai cries out. A deep slash gouges his back. He falls to his knees, Miki still held tightly in his grasp.

“No, please stop!” I lurch forward.

Th
e snake raises its tail once more.

“Stop!” I look around desperately. “Someone, help—”

Th
ere's a sharp whistle of sound. A golden arrow shoots down from the sky, embedding deep into the back of the snake's neck.
Th
e snake writhes, howling. Another arrow finds its throat, cutting off its scream.
Th
e snake twists and falls, transforming into a man, eyes glassy and cold.

Out of the sky comes a great beast, what looks like a horse but with hooves of fire. A woman sits upon the beast, one arm pulling back the string of a large horn bow. Her hair falls down to her waist. Her eyes are like flaming candles. A bolt of lightning flashes and silhouettes her against the darkness. She's the most awe-inspiring being I've ever seen, terrible and terrifying at once. Slowly she turns her mount, her bright gaze upon me.

“Goddess!”

Shin stands on the roof of the closest building, and with him is Kirin. Both show signs of the battle in their ripped clothing and their swords that drip with blood. “Call away your servants,” he commands, “and leave this city.”

Servants?
Th
en
she
must be the Goddess of Moon and Memory. More Imugi have gathered in the sky above her. Yet if she is their mistress—I shift my gaze to the man on the ground, his body slowly fading—why did she kill one of them?

“Give me the girl,” the goddess says, “and I will leave in peace.”

“I already told your servant, Ryugi. Lady Mina is no longer the Sea God's bride, but my own.”

Th
is answer seems to displease her more than placate her, her grip tightening on the bow. “
Th
en why does she walk in the Sea God's gardens? Why does she tell him stories to tempt his heart? Your bride.
Th
e Sea God's bride. It does not matter. To me, she is an enemy.”

Slowly she begins to lead her mount toward me. Behind her, Shin leaps from roof to roof, but he won't make it in time.
Th
e goddess lifts her bow, the arrow pointed directly at my heart.

Th
en a body lurches into view, knocking me over. “Dai!” He wraps his arms around my neck, surprisingly strong for a young boy, let alone a badly wounded one. I try to push him away, but he holds tight. Across the street Miki wails in Mask's arms. “Dai,” I beg, “you have to let go.” But he refuses. Even battered and bleeding, he thinks only of protecting me.

I lift my gaze to the goddess, only to see her watching us, very still upon her mount. For a second, I could swear I see a deep longing in her expression, but then her eyes harden, even as she lowers her bow. “How cowardly, to hide behind a child. But you won't be with him always, and when you're alone, when you least expect it, I will appear before you. And I will take what belongs to me.”

I bite my lip to keep from retorting,
My soul belongs to me
.

Th
e horse rises in the air. Golden cinders leap from its hooves to sizzle in the wind. It gallops upward into the sky, the sea snakes swarming around the goddess.

One sea snake breaks off from the rest and falls to the ground.
Th
e snake's body shrinks to a human shape, revealing a sweaty, scratched, but altogether uninjured Namgi.

Dai's body goes limp, and I catch him, cradling him in my lap.

Shin arrives, crouching down beside me. “We need to get him back to Lotus House.”

I nod, and gently he lifts Dai in his arms.

Together our battle-worn party moves off, Mask holding an inconsolable Miki, whose cries echo the worry in my heart. As we hurry down the street, I look over my shoulder one last time.
Th
e lanterns in the street have all blown out during the battle.
Th
e only light comes from the moon, full and glowing, eclipsed by the lone figure of the goddess.

 

Dai is placed in Namgi's
room, one of the two rooms on the bottom floor of the Lotus Pavilion, the other belonging to Kirin. I wait outside in the hall with Miki in my arms, her little body trembling every few minutes.
Th
e tremors began when she was first separated from Dai, after he'd saved her from the Imugi. On the walk back to Lotus House, she exhausted herself from crying, yet the trembling hasn't stopped. She releases another shiver, and I hold her close.

Th
e door to Namgi's room slides open, and Shin steps out, followed by Kirin.

“How is he?” I ask quietly.

Kirin tightens the bandages around his hand. “He's strong, for such a small person. He'll pull through.”

Reaching out, Shin lightly brushes back the wisps of hair that have escaped the tangle of my braid, clinging to my forehead and cheeks.
Th
e gentleness of his touch almost undoes the fragile walls I've built around my heart.

“I thought you were asleep,” he says. By now, dawn must be breaking over the horizon.

“I want to see him.”

Shin nods, stepping away from the door. As I pass, he says gently, “He'll be all right, Mina.”

Fighting back tears, I hold his gaze, then Kirin's. “
Th
ank you.”

Kirin hesitates, then nods.

I enter the room, and Shin closes the door behind me.

Pink and yellow light filters through a closed window, lending a hazy glow to the room. Mask sits on the floor beside Dai, leaning over to pat down the blankets around him. Speaking in hushed voices, neither has noticed my entrance.

“I did good, didn't I, Mask?” Dai is whispering. “I protected them. Both of them. Like we said we would.”

“Yes,” Mask says softly, “you were very brave.”

In my arms, Miki lets out a gurgle, drawing the attention of Dai. “Miki!” he croaks, opening his arms, only to wince in pain. He draws back into the blankets.

I hurry over, kneeling on the opposite side of the pallet, across from Mask.

I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh, Dai…”

His black hair is pushed back from his face, revealing mottled bruises along his forehead and jaw. His face is pale, and there's a cut at the edge of his lips.
Th
e blankets obscure the rest of his body, but I can tell he's in pain by the way he holds himself, lying stiffly on his side, and by the way he keeps himself from reaching for Miki.

“Mask was just saying how brave I am,” Dai says. “Remember
this moment, Mina. I will need you to recall it later, when I'm better and she's being mean to me again.”

Mask chuckles, the expression on her mask that of a smiling grandmother.

“I agree with Mask, Dai,” I say. “You were so very brave. It was terrible, seeing you and Miki beneath the shadow of the Imugi. But you protected her. And you, not so much bigger than her yourself.”

“I sometimes forget,” Dai says, “how small I am. I wasn't always so small, you see.”

I frown. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

“When spirits first enter this realm, we are given a choice to take any form we want,” he explains. “If we happened to die a young man, we could take the form of an old man. If we died an old man, we could take the form of a little boy. But Miki died when she was only a baby. She hadn't had a chance to dream of being older than she already was. When deciding what type of body I should take, I thought of Miki. I thought,
I must be little like she is to understand what she's feeling
. I'm a boy, after all—what do I know about what it's like to be a little girl?”

He chuckles to himself. Beside him, Mask laughs her muffled laugh, and Miki trembles in my arms.

“Do you know how much I love Miki?” he continues. “When she gurgles, like she does when she's happy, I feel like my heart grows to ten times its normal size. When she is sad, I feel like my heart is breaking. I would give my life a hundred times for Miki.”

Th
e tears that I was holding back slip down my cheeks. I know he would; he almost did today.

“Do you know how much I love Miki? I came down from heaven so I could be with her.”

“H-heaven?” I ask.

He smiles, a faraway look in his eyes. “Beyond this world, there are others. One of those other worlds is heaven.
Th
at's where I was, you see. I was waiting for my wife to join me, but then Miki … she's my great-granddaughter. My wife would never forgive me if I left Miki to float alone down the River of Souls. I came down from heaven, and I picked her up out of the water, and I've never put her down since. I spoil her, I think. She is my Miki. I love her.”

Miki reaches for him, and I can't deny her. Carefully, I place her in his arms. “She is not very heavy,” he whispers. “She is light. And if my wife passes through and straight up into heaven, she'll just have to wait. But she won't mind, because she knows I will be with our Miki.”

Across Dai, Mask takes my hand, and together we watch as Miki lays her head on his shoulder, her trembling having stopped, safe in his arms again.
Th
e small furrow wrinkling her brow disappears, and she falls into a peaceful slumber.

“Do you know how much I love you, Miki?” Dai whispers softly. “Even I don't know. My love for you is endless. Deep and endless, like the sea.”

In the morning, I wake to sunlight on my face and Dai drooling on my sleeve. Mask and Miki are nowhere to be found, though all four of us fell asleep together on the small pallet. Dai's face
has regained most of its color. I adjust his blankets, careful not to wake him.

Outside, Miki sits on Mask's lap as they watch Namgi and Nari play a board game with white and black stones for markers. Namgi picks up one of the black stones from the bowl, hovering it over the board. Mask makes a
tsk
sound. He moves his hand to hover over another position. When she nods, he places it on the board.

“
Th
is is unfair,” Nari says, picking up a white stone from her bowl. “I thought I was to play a young Imugi, not a grandmother of interminable age.”

I glance between Namgi and Mask. Last night, I witnessed Namgi's transformation into a monstrous sea snake, and Dai revealed that he and Mask were not as their appearances might have implied. And yet, in the morning sunlight, Mask and Namgi look as they always have, familiar and good.

I take a seat beside Mask, tickling Miki's toes. “Where are Shin and Kirin?”

“Crane House,” Nari replies. “Where, by now, Lord Crane must have come to regret all his wrongdoings.”

Namgi chuckles at that, but as the day grows longer and Shin and Kirin don't return, I wonder what could be keeping them, and if Lord Crane has revealed to Shin what he had divulged to me.

Even a Red String of Fate can be unmade, if one party should form a stronger connection with another.
How will Shin react to this information? Since the moment our fate was first formed, he wanted to destroy it because of the risk to his own life. With that reasoning, he won't desire to form a bond with another soul. Which
means only I can break our tie by choosing the Sea God, and having him choose me in return.

Soon, day becomes night, and everyone separates to their own sleeping chambers—Miki and Mask to join Dai in Namgi's room; Namgi to Kirin's room, where he'll be bedding for the next few days as Dai recovers; and me, alone, to the floor above.

Moving to the far wall, I pick up the large bedroll and spread it down the middle of the floor, patting the blankets until they're smooth and flat. I hesitate before going to the paper screen, dragging it over the blankets so that the bedroll is divided. Finished, I take off my short silk jacket and untie the strings of my skirt. I let both fall to the floor before kicking them to the side. In my thin white shift, I crawl beneath the blankets. I stay awake awhile longer, sensitive to every sound outside the door, but when an hour passes and no one appears, I fall asleep.

I'm dreaming of the dragon as it rose from the sea—its eyes upon me, dark and fathomless—when I'm startled awake by a sound. I blink, disoriented. Moonlight seeps through the window.
Th
e shadows of clouds drift slowly across the paper screen. It can't be too far past midnight.

Again, the sound. An unmistakable cry of pain.
Shin!

Scrambling out of the blankets, I push aside the screen. Shin tosses and turns on the bedding, his robes askew. He must have returned to Lotus House and gone to bed without changing. I quickly check him for visible wounds but find none. A nightmare, then? Sweat beads his brow, and his body trembles, as if taken by a chill.

I crouch beside him and grab his shoulders, giving a rough shake. “Shin, wake up!”

His eyes fly open. “Mina?”

I press the back of my hand to his forehead. “You don't have a fever. How do you feel?”

He starts to sit up, and I quickly move to help him. Once he's upright, I hurry to the low shelf and grab the bowl there, plucking the paper boat from the water and placing it gently aside. I test the water with my fingertips, relieved to find it cool. Returning to Shin's side, I soak a cloth in the water and bring it to his forehead.

“You were having a nightmare,” I say as I dab the sweat from his brow. “Do you remember what it was about?”

He shakes his head slowly, his dark eyes intent upon my face. “I spoke to Lord Crane. He knows about the Red String of Fate between us. He admitted to sending the thieves to steal your soul, and failing that, contracted the same to kill you.”

A shiver runs through me. Mask, Dai, and I might have defeated the bear-assassin, but the weasel is still out there.

I dip the cloth again and bring it to his neck. “Did he say anything else?”

He must have told Shin about how the Red String of Fate can be broken.

“No.”

I look up. Shin meets my gaze, his expression inscrutable. Is he … lying? But why would he lie about knowing the truth?

“He told me some things as well,” I say. “He said that the way to break the curse upon the Sea God is to form a fated connection
with him, the same as between lovers. As for the Red String of Fate we share, he said—”

“You're wrong,” Shin interrupts. “I think I have a fever.”

I was disoriented before, upon waking, but reason has now returned. According to Nari, spirits and gods cannot become ill.

Shin lifts his hand to brush his fingers against his face.
Th
e movement draws my attention to his bare forearm and his robes that are askew, having fallen wide at his neck in his sleep. Suddenly, my shoulders feel very exposed without my jacket. Neither of us is dressed to be having this conversation.

“I'll fetch Kirin.” I get up, almost tripping when the skirt of my dress snags on something. I look down to see Shin holding on to the back of it, his hand a fist. He notices it, too, and releases me abruptly, turning his face away.

I hesitate, then kneel on the blankets. “Do you want me to stay?”

He looks at me, and I have my answer in the open longing in his eyes.

I move to smooth down his pillow. And then he's reaching for me, and I go to him, his arms circling around me. His breath whispers against my neck as he pulls me close.

It seems impossible that I'll fall asleep, the tension humming painfully beneath my skin, but eventually I'm lulled into a peaceful slumber, every one of my heartbeats an echo of his.