Young-hee and the Pullocho (21 page)

“Little bird,” cackled the demon to Samjogo in his hoarse, bitter voice, “who opened your cage?” He gestured, and from his hand, a strand of blue flame dripped and transformed into two thin chains. “I think this creature wants to join you as my guest.”

“Yeonggam, old friend, it's good to see you again,” laughed Samjogo, shielded Youghee with one arm, and remarked, “I highly recommend against his hospitality—it's far too permanent.”

“Samjogo,” sneered the monster, “struggling will only make your meat more gamey, and I'll have to age you all the longer.” As it jostled the magical chains, pools of flame gathered at its feet. “Don't be rude now. These dark caves are mine, and I have certain obligations as host. Introduce me to your friend. I like to have a friendly relationship with my meals.”

With his shoulder, Samjogo edged Young-hee away. “I don't suppose you have any sort of blade on you?” asked Samjogo, never taking his eyes off of Yeonggam.

“Not even a sharp stick.”

“In that case, I have what I think is an excellent suggestion,” said Samjogo. “Run! Fast!” Before Young-hee could react, the Samjogo disappeared into the darkness, leaving her with her lantern and the demon. Not good. Then Young-hee ran, too.

“Where do my dainties think they are going?” the demon called out, amused. “There's nowhere to run. This cave is all mine.” Young-hee sprinted past the tree and ducked behind the stone wall. Coming closer, the demon's steps crunched on the rocky cave floor. “I can see you,” it sing-songed.

Only then did Young-hee remember her lamp.
Stupid!
she cursed herself. Covering it, she was enveloped by darkness—except for Yeonggam's blue glow—coming steadily nearer.

“I'm not a creature of sun,” it chuckled. “I don't need lanterns to see in the dark. Please, feel free to run and hide. I like a little dinner entertainment.”

She gathered herself, thinking if she couldn't hide, she could at least run, and took off full speed toward the barn. Shadows from her lantern bounced ahead of her. She hoped Samjogo was lurking nearby, ready to pounce, but he seemed completely missing.
More powerful than a dragon. Right
, she thought. Maybe a nine-headed ogre would show up to fight the demon for her. Of course, with her luck, the two would be friends, and would only fight over her best meat.

She searched the structures for an escape, but each moment looking was a moment not distancing herself from the demon.
Crunch, crunch, crunch
came its steady footsteps. Desperately reaching, she found something like a handle—she pushed then pulled, shoved then yanked, but the door stuck fast.

The blue glow shone brighter as the
crunch-crunch
got louder. The demon was right there. She turned to tug on the door one more time, but in her fear and haste Young-hee dropped her lantern. It hit the ground with a heavy
clunk
, and the light blinked out. The silent darkness that blanketed her in emptiness was pricked only by the steady
crunch, crunch, crunch
and the flick of dull blue flame. In a moment, he would be upon her.

Young-hee fled straight into the darkness, hands in front to avoid colliding with a cave or building wall. Instead, her foot slammed into something immobile, and she heard the demon laugh as she fell heavily, scraping her hands and bashing her toe. “Okay, dinner, that's enough,” the demon called. “Stop running before I get upset.” But Young-hee rose and ran through the pain, as hard as before. “
Hrumph
,” the demon said disdainfully, “I told you to
stop!
” A crackling, whooshing filled the air, and a jet of blue flame shot past Young-hee's face. She recoiled and fell again, frightened by the heat and noise. A sickly smell hung in the air, and she realized it was her singed hair.
This is bad
.
Bad-bad-bad.

As the burning monster approached, Young-hee saw that a flaming blast had hit the ground near the great tree, lighting the center of the cavern. She ran toward it, muscles pumping, lungs bursting, oblivious to Yeonggam's vile insults. She ran to the tree and then, not knowing how she did it, powered straight up the trunk, like a terrified cat. Reaching branches, she grabbed on and climbed. Up and up she went, until the branches became thinner and swayed threateningly. She struggled to breathe and clear her mind.

Far below, the blue, fiery demon paced. “You know,” he said, “if I was trying to escape a creature who controlled fire, I wouldn't hide in a tree.” With a great
thwack
of his spear, flames danced across the bark. “But that's just me. No judgments.”

“For an ancient creature of myth and tradition,” she shouted defiantly, “you're quite a big jerk.”

“That may be the case,” he said frowning, “but I'm the one holding the giant, flaming spear.” He stabbed the tree again, harder, deeper, and this time, it started to burn.

Young-hee looked for the cave roof, or somewhere to flee. But no such luck. The flames rose up the trunk, larger and hungrier. “I don't suppose there's anything I could trade, in exchange for letting me go?”

“Sorry. I'm a simple demon. I don't collect trinkets. I just want some barbecued girl.”

“I'm not a girl,” Young-hee sniffed. If she was going to die, she it would be on her terms—defiant. “And you'll never get what you need to be happy.”

Below, Yeonggam's fiery hand merged with the burning tree. “
Happy?
” he repeated quizzically. “I'm a demon. I'm supposed to be miserable. But, in my own way I will enjoy tearing the burnt meat from your bones, little bear daughter.”

The demon started licking his lips, but suddenly his expression changed. His lips curled and parted. He coughed and clutched his throat. With horrid, bloody suddenness, a huge sword, wide as Young-hee's leg, burst from the demon's neck. A moment later, his head came clean off, rolling from his shoulders and disappearing in the darkness. Behind the demon stood Samjogo, holding a ludicrously large sword.

“‘If you can't climb the tree, you shouldn't look up at it,' as they say. Honestly, though, that saying never really made a lot of sense before. Now, I like it.”

Young-hee looked down in shock. “Is he dead?”

“Just a moment,” said the Samjogo, wiping demon effluvia from his eyes. Then, with a great heave, he swung the sword in a big arc and split the demon's body in half. “Yeah, I think that about does it.” The lanky young man slumped to the ground, exhausted.

Young-hee was disgusted by the gore, but also unbelievably happy to be have survived—until she realized the tree was still burning. “I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but I'm still in some trouble here.”

“Yes, of course,” Samjogo said, standing with great effort. “You can't jump?”

“I'd break a leg, at least. That ground is all rock.” A wave of thick smoke made Young-hee cough uncontrollably and stung her eyes. Through acrid tears, she looked for something to cushion her fall, but saw only stone—and the fire racing to the branches where she clung.

Then the Samjogo had an idea. “Young-hee, do you see the well?”

She peered through billowing smoke and there, a few meters from the tree, a circle of stones surrounded a deep, dark hole. “Yeah, I see it.”

“If you can jump that far, there's water in it. Then I'll fish you out.”

“Are you serious?”

“I don't know. Are you fireproof?”

A rather compelling argument, Young-hee thought. She threw her cloak and bag and things beyond the reach of the fire, which was now perilously close. Soon her supporting branches would break.

With no time and no other options, Young-hee lined up the angle and distance and jumped. As she fell through the flames, everything grew very hot. Then inside the stone hole, darkness, a rush of wind, and a terrifying lack of control. She bounced off the side, but before she noticed the pain she plunged into freezing water, and for a moment she had no idea which way was up or where she was. But she followed the bubbles of air that rushed inexorably to the surface and felt cool air.

“Hello?” she called, coughing as she treaded water. High above, blue flames lit the air. “Samjogo? I'm here! I'm okay,” she said. “Please help.”

Something landed with a splat. A rope, and it led to the silhouette of a young man with crazy hair leaning over the mouth of the well. “Sorry, it took a moment to find a rope. Hold tight, and I'll pull you out.”

Young-hee wrapped the rope around her hands. She held on as it tightened, pinching off the blood to her fingers. But she rose out of the water to the sound of Samjogo's grunts. At the well's edge, awkwardly, she pulled herself out and onto the ground, unwrapped her sore hands, and lay exhausted. Behind her, the tree cracked and burned, warming the air and lighting up the cavern like holiday fireworks.

“Thanks,” she said, coughing.

“It was the least I could do. I owed you for freeing me,” said Samjogo, slouching on the ground, splattered with demon gore. “This is the home of Agwi Kwisin the Nine-headed Ogre, so I went hunting for a weapon. As luck would have it I found the old monster's giant dagger. Not exactly a graceful weapon, and almost too big to lift, but, apparently, enough.”

“I didn't need to be saved gracefully. But I hope that Agwi ogre guy doesn't show up.”

“Huh?” said Samjogo, confused. “Oh, he's dead.”

“What?”

“Had all his heads chopped off by some overambitious hero type. Ages ago.”

“He's dead?” shouted Young-hee, exasperated. “You could have started with that.”

“Well, I was going to mention it. But I got a distracted, what with the flaming blue demon and all.”

“
Jigyeowo
,” she grumbled. Then she remembered the story Samjogo had stared to tell before the fire demon showed up. “Wait, you said this troll …”

“Ogre.”

“Ogre, fine, had a pullocho? The ‘magic, life-giving ginseng of the Heavens?'”

“Oh, yes,” Samjogo nodded merrily. “Certainly. Well, almost certainly. At least, that's the story.”

“So it could still be here?”

Samjogo stood and started brushing himself off. “I don't see why not.”

Young-hee sprang up, forgetting her wet clothes, sore hands and singed hair. “If it's here, I've got to find it.”

As she scurried, randomly looking for the root, a great crack split the air, the tree fell and a ball of magical blue flame billowed hot sparks in chaotic swirls across the cavern. Young-hee kept exploring.
If a tree could grow here, surely a pullocho could, too.

“Where's your lantern, Young-hee?” asked the Samjogo. “When that tree is consumed, it'll be pretty dark again.” Young-hee, annoyed by the interruption, flicked her hand toward the barn, where Samjogo found it. “Any more candles? This one is about finished,” he said, lighting the remaining candle stump with a burning branch.

Young-hee hunted furiously through the thin dirt covering the rocky cave floor. “Where would I find a pullocho? The dokkaebi said something about the shadow of some tree. This isn't the Sacred City, but it is a big tree. …or
was
,” she corrected herself. “But does a tree in darkness even have a shadow?”

Samjogo half-heartedly looked at the ground. “It's been ages since Agwi Kwisin lived here. Or anyone else. I doubt you will find anything as valuable as a pullocho.”

“You found a sword, strong enough to kill a demon,” she said.

“A
dagger
. I could never have lifted Agwi Kwisin's sword.”

“Whatever. The point is, I don't think anyone ever really checked out this cave.” Young-hee grabbed a flaming branch to help her search.

“Maybe there's something inside the house,” Samjogo shrugged and walked off. “Besides, I need to clean off these demon guts.”

Young-hee kept searching, but found only bushes and smaller versions of the tree now rapidly becoming coals and ash. Her chest grew tight, as if someone were playing cat's cradle with her heart.

She moved on to the large barns. She fumbled with one huge wooden door, and this time it opened. Inside was rotting timber, a bit of messy straw, and the vague smell of ancient animal dung.
It must have housed livestock,
she thought, remembering the farms she visited with her friends outside Toronto.
Wait, don't mushrooms grow in poop?
Just to be safe, she combed through the barn, even poking at the petrified poop with a stick. But whatever the building once was, it had been empty for a long time. And the next building was even emptier than the first.

“Now, this is more like it,” said Samjogo, even more jauntily than usual. Young-hee jumped, surprised by his voice as he sauntered into the barn, swinging a long wooden stick tipped with a nasty blade. “This is a really fine
hyeopdo
, which happens to be my weapon of choice. And the right size for a Samjogo.”