The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea (25 page)

I look away, and he doesn't finish the sentence.

“You try to hide it,” he says softly, “but it's as if you're drifting away from us. Mina, I just … I want you to be happy. Will he make you happy?”

“You make me happy.
Th
e ducks in the pond make me happy.
Th
e clear skies, the calm sea, the lasting peace. All of this makes me happy.”

“If you're happy, then why are you crying?”

I press my hands to my eyes, and they come away wet. “I don't know. I cry a lot, I think. I have weak eyes.”

My brother wraps his arms around me. “Or a strong heart.”

I bury my face against his shoulder, the tears endless, the pain unbearable.

Late at night, I make my way to the beach.
Th
ere are dark clouds over the water. A storm far out at sea. In the past year, there have been numerous storms, each as harmless as the last.
Th
ey bring rainfall for the crops and keep our rivers and streambeds filled. And the gods are thanked and loved by the people, the Sea God most of all.

Wait for me
, he said,
where the land meets the sea
.

But I have waited for you, every day for a year, and you haven't come. What am I to do? How can I go on, waiting like this, when I know you will never come?

We are separated by distance, by
worlds
. By memory.

“Shin.” His name is a prayer, a plea.

I turn from the sea and retrace the steps back home, where I lie on my pallet with tears in my eyes, only to wake hours later to the clanking of drums and the whistling of a bamboo flute.
Th
e Sea God's festival has begun.

 

In the morning, the children
rush to the village stream, placing their boats upon the water.
Th
en comes a full day of festival games, music, food, and laughter. Cheong and I stop to watch a talented performer sing the story of “
Th
e Sea God's Bride” to a rapt audience, accompanied by a skilled drummer. I'm surprised to find that the story she tells shares many similarities to the one I told the Sea God in the hall, which makes me wonder how much of storytelling is embedded in the land and its people, a consciousness that we all believe in and share.

Cheong and I explore the merchant stalls, where she purchases a block of honey on a stick for Mirae and roasted chestnuts to split between us. After some time, however, I start to notice something peculiar. For once the people we pass on the streets, even the elegant and aloof nobles, seem to overlook Shim Cheong entirely. Instead, they all seem to be staring—quite openly—at
me
.

Cheong stops one of the village children. Immediately I recognize her as Nari's young cousin, Mari.

“What's going on?” she demands. “Why is everyone staring at Mina? Tell us quick!”

Mari grins conspiratorially, looking so much like her older cousin in that moment that my heart lurches. “
Th
ey say the emperor asked for Mina's hand in marriage. Yesterday, when he paid a visit to your house. Well, is it true?”

“Even if it were true, it's not respectable to spread rumors. Here, buy yourself a treat.” Cheong flips her a coin.

“It's not a rumor if it's the truth,” Mari says cheekily, pocketing the coin, though she doesn't forget to bow to both of us before rushing off to join her friends.

Cheong watches me carefully. None of my family members have asked me what my response to the emperor's proposal will be, though Grandmother claims I would never accept such an unequal match:
He is but an emperor; Mina has been bound to a god.
And Soojin quietly says in her kind, unobtrusive way,
But wouldn't it be nice for Mina to have a family of her own? And maybe he might help her move on …

In the late morning, the festivalgoers return to their homes to prepare for the ceremony that will culminate the festival, when the whole of the village, including the visiting nobles and the emperor, will make their slow way up to the cliffs that overlook the sea.
Th
ere the emperor will pay obeisance to the Sea God, asking him to protect his land and people for another year.

I'm already wearing the dress my grandmother and sisters have sewn for me, the skirt a bright yellow and the jacket pink like the petals of a lotus. Strapping my last gift—my dagger—to
my waist, I wander out to the garden to wait. In the shallow waters of the pond, little tadpoles linger over the pebbles.

When Joon and I were children, we used to catch tadpoles in the stream beside our house with a small wooden bucket. We would catch them and put our fingers in the water to feel their smooth, slippery bodies. We'd release them shortly after catching them. Joon—always gentle, always kind—never could keep them for long.

Th
ere's a soft tread of footsteps. My brother, coming to fetch me.

“Joon,” I say, turning, “is it time…?” I trail off.

Standing before me is the Goddess of Moon and Memory.

I gape. “What are you doing here?”

She's dressed in white robes and a loose red jacket, her hair in a simple knot at the nape of her neck. She watches me with her candlelit eyes that before used to fill me with such terror. Now I feel only a steady warmth.

“Shin came to see me,” she says.

I jerk back. “Wh-what?”

“It's strange,” the goddess continues, either unaware or unmerciful of my wildly beating heart. “He should have no memories of you, and yet, he walks his palace in silence. He finds happiness in nothing, and his soul weeps. He's worse than when the emperor was the Sea God. Nothing can console him.”

My heart is breaking. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, as you suggested, I've taken on the role of the Goddess of Women and Children. Do you know what that means?”

I shake my head.

“It means that everyone who once feared me now loves me. Even Shin, my greatest enemy,
loves
me. He knows me now as a goddess of motherhood and children. He knows me as a goddess who is loving and kind and giving. Tell me, Mina, how could I be cruel to someone who loves me?”

“I don't know. Can you?”

“It's … strange. When I was feared, I hated everything and everyone. But now that I'm loved, I can't stand to see those who love me suffer one moment of pain. I blame you, Mina. You've turned me into a kindhearted goddess.”

I look at her, my heart in my throat. “What did you do?”

“Have you forgotten? I may be the Goddess of Women and Children, but I am also the Goddess of Moon and
Memory
.”

A gust of wind picks up the petals of the pear tree that have fallen on the ground.
Th
ey begin to swirl around the goddess.

I stumble forward. “Wait!”

In a moment, she's gone.

“Mina?” Cheong comes out from the house, peering around the garden. “Are you all right? I heard voices.”

“Cheong, I—”

Behind her, Sung and Soojin rush into the garden.

“Mina, Cheong!” he calls, breathless. “
Th
e emperor has already arrived at the top of the cliffs. We must hurry or we'll be late!”

Cheong looks as if she wishes to speak with me more, but Mirae, strapped to Soojin's back, begins to cry, and Cheong hurries over to soothe the child, presenting to her with a flourish the honey block she purchased at the market.

My family hurries to join the last group of villagers, Sung and Soojin with Mirae, Grandmother, Cheong and Joon, making their way up to the cliffs.

At first I keep up with them, but after a while my steps grow slow, my thoughts distracted by the breeze sweeping through the trees, and soon I'm alone on the path.

It's a familiar climb, one I used to make often when I was younger. I remember racing up to the top, breathless with both exertion and anticipation.
Th
ere's a point where the path grows steep, and it's a bit of a struggle to take the last few steps, but it's worth it, because once I come up over the rise, it's there, waiting for me.

Th
e sea.
Th
e water stretches out to the horizon, its beauty unparalleled, filling my heart with a joy that is boundless, that both grounds me to this moment and spirits me away, to a world far beyond this one, to the place where I long to be.

I'm so wrapped up in the spell of it that I almost miss the watchful faces of the people lining the path, nobles and villagers alike.
Th
ey stand on either side of a grassy carpet, at the end of which waits the emperor.

I'm reminded of my first night in the Spirit Realm, when the Red String of Fate led me to the Sea God. And I realize, like then, I'm meant to walk down the path to him.

Th
e villagers look at me curiously, the nobles with expressions of confusion.
Th
ey must think the emperor has made a mistake, asking some girl from a backwater village by the sea to marry him.

In the last story I told the Sea God, what did Shim Cheong
think when she came up in the lotus blossom and married the emperor? She went from peasant girl to ruler of the land.

Th
e truth is, she didn't jump into the sea to become an empress. She jumped into the sea because she loved her father. What else could she do? Nothing extraordinary is ever done out of reason or logic, but because it's the only way for your soul to breathe.

Th
ere are many pathways destiny can take. For instance, the path ahead of me leads to the emperor. I can take his hand, and I can become his bride. Or I can follow the path back to my village, to the place where the land meets the sea, where I know now my heart is waiting for me.

Which destiny belongs to me? Which destiny will I grasp on to with both hands and never, never let go?

Th
e emperor must sense my indecision, because he takes a step forward.

Something large passes overhead, casting a great shadow over the cliff.
Th
e crowd erupts in screams and chaos, as everywhere courtiers and villagers scramble back, falling down in their haste.

Th
e dragon drops from the sky, landing on the grass. Immediately it begins to glow with a radiant light, heavy wind gusting out from its body.

My braid comes loose, my hair whipping wildly around my face.

Th
e glow from the dragon disperses. Where once was the dragon, now stands
 …

Th
e Sea God.

He looks magnificent, in light blue robes with the emblem of
the dragon stitched silver upon his chest. He looks every part the Sea God, the powerful dragon of the East Sea, just as he looks every part Lord Shin of Lotus House, who accepted a pebble for a soul.

“Mina,” he says, in a voice filled with longing, hope, and love. “
Th
e Sea God's bride.”

And I laugh, remembering the first time we met, how he called me the Sea God's bride even then.

“No, Sea God,” a voice says from behind us. “She is my bride.”

I turn to face the emperor of my people, noticing as I have before the changes in him—not just in his bearing and confidence, but the small changes of having been awake for two years after sleeping for a hundred. He's no longer a boy, but a young man.
Th
ough still, I notice how the sword trembles in his grasp. After all, to the emperor, the Sea God is not only a god, but the protector of his people. A tenderness rises up within me. He would protect me, even against the god whom he loves most in the world.

As for Shin, he really must remember me, because he steps aside, knowing the one to answer our emperor will be me.

“Your Majesty,” I say, pressing my hand to his as I did that last night in the hall of the Sea God's palace, when the Red String of Fate dissolved between us, a fate neither of us had chosen. “Your dreams are real.
Th
ey are the memories of the time we spent together in the Sea God's realm, where you were the Sea God, and there was no emperor. Do you remember?”

He lowers his sword. “I…” A look of wonder passes across his face. “I remember.”

“If you remember anything, remember this. I saved you.”

Tears begin to slip down his face. “I remember. I was lost, for a long time. You found me. I owe you my life, Mina. I owe you everything.”

I shake my head. “You owe me nothing. Only perhaps, this moment. You don't need me anymore. It's time to let me go.”

A pained expression falls across the emperor's features. I think, perhaps, there will always be a connection between us. Our stories have become inextricably entwined. And even though I belong to myself, I
want
him to choose this, too. Only then can his story truly begin.

He's silent for a moment, his gaze steady on me. Finally, he whispers, “
Th
ank you.”

It is enough.

“Years from now,” he says quietly, “I will tell my grandchildren how, a long time ago, I was saved by a goddess.”

“A goddess?” I laugh. “A girl, maybe.”

Placing his hands on his stomach, the emperor of my people bows to me.
Th
en he bows again, to the Sea God, and, with one last lingering look, walks down the great grassy carpet, toward his own destiny.

Turning, I rush into Shin's arms. My tears are flowing now. “
Th
is is less where the land meets the sea and more where the mountain meets the sky.”

His arms tighten around me. “Wherever you are, I'll find you.”

“I'll make it easy for you. Because I'll be right here. With you.”

“
Th
at does make things easier.” He laughs, his breath tickling my ear.
Th
en softly he says, his voice hesitant, “Will you be
content, being the bride of a god?” His question brings back the memories from two years ago, when he worried that I wouldn't be happy, separated from my family, living a strange and immortal life in the Sea God's realm.

I lean back to meet his gaze. “I take back what I said earlier.” He frowns, his arms tensing around me. “We'll have to be apart sometimes. After all, I'll want to visit Hyeri and go on walks with Nari in the city. And it's not healthy for your other friendships if we're together all the time. What about Kirin and Namgi?” A thought occurs to me. “Did they lose their memories as well?”

“
Th
ey didn't,” Shin says, “but were afraid that telling me of you would reverse the effects of the wish.”

“
Th
ank goodness for the goddess, then. She's afraid of nothing!”

Shin wraps me in his arms, his heart beating fast. “Mina, I've missed you so much.”

He pulls back only to lean forward for a kiss.
Th
ere's a loud cough behind us.

I hunch my shoulders, turning to face my whole family, standing only a few feet away with huge smiles on their faces.

Joon is the first to approach, taking me into his arms. I close my eyes, trying to burn this memory into my mind, this feeling of being in his arms one last time.

“To think,” he whispers, “this all began because you were chasing me. I will miss you, Mina, my favorite sister.”

I scoff. “You only have one sister.”

“Yes, and she is the bravest person I know.”

Th
en, one by one, I say farewell to my family. Sung, Soojin, and Mirae. Grandmother. I hold her the longest.
Th
is will be the
last time I see them, maybe forever. Even when they pass on, many years from now, they might go up the river into heaven.
Th
ey might take the river into another life.