Young-hee and the Pullocho (36 page)

Up and up the long, difficult climb. The clouds grew closer, larger, and fiercer. Young-hee worried that the Storm Lord might have a hand in it, but saw no signs of him. Nor of the ghosts or any other pursuers. Had they tried following through the forest? Or gone around? Maybe they lay in wait at her destination. It couldn't be a secret that their goal was the Sacred City, not now.

As they traveled higher, the wind rose and the temperature cooled. She put on her cloak and all the clothes she had, but the wind bit through. Only the strain of climbing provided warmth. Even when the sun poked through a cloud, it beamed half-heartedly. Young-hee remembered the perfect, ethereal warmth and eternal twilight that was Strange Land when she first arrived. Everything had seemed so magical and wondrous. Now, it was gray and ominous, as if her fears, worries, and doubts had infected the entire realm.

Young-hee certainly had a lot of all three—she was afraid for Bum, worried about her family, and doubtful she would find the pullocho. But increasingly she wrestled a concern she couldn't identify. Something about this whole excursion didn't add up. Why were the Ghost Queen and her minions after her? Little of what the animal spirit sisters had told her made sense. And what was up with Mirinae's chioonchim working for Samjogo but not her? More and more, Young-hee thought that there must be something else she wasn't aware of. Something bigger. But no matter how much she mulled and imagined, she found no good answers.

At one point, shifting right to avoid a steep bit of cliff, they crossed a ridgeline that awarded a view of a previously hidden mountain side. Below was a great swathe of small, light blue shapes. Whatever it was, it was too small for Young-hee to make out clearly. Samjogo noticed her confused stare. “River fairies, most likely,” he said simply. “The blue would be their banners.”

“That looks big enough to be an army,” said Young-hee.

“That's because it is.” With no more explanation, he led the way forward.

Up ahead, the mountain leveled into a plateau. Even from this distance Young-hee could see odd rocky formations and figured the Sacred City must be there. Or had been, if any ruins remained.

Despite fatigue from the long day's trek, she walked faster, spurred on by anticipation.
The pullocho just has to be there. I'll get it, then I'll get Bum back.
Samjogo was climbing faster, too, and Tiger casually leaped ahead of them both.

She smelled the city before she saw it—the rich, oily scent of sandalwood filled the air with perfume that reminded Young-hee of her mother's favorite incense. The beautiful smell meant she was close to her goal.
A noble-hearted
simmani
might be able to find a pullocho in the ruins of the great Sacred City, in the shadow of the first sandalwood tree
. That's what the dokkaebi had told her. Of course, why should he be any more right than any other creature Young-hee had met? Most advice since beginning this quest had been dubious at best, and some was just wrong. Leaving the path didn't seem to matter because a new one emerged. Gifts didn't always come with strings. Even the Great Forest, difficult as it had been, was surmountable. Now Young-hee was ready for her quest to end. She wanted the pullocho. She scampered over a large rock and spilled onto the plateau. Before her lay the ruins of the Sacred City.

A large, lonely sandalwood tree sat in the middle of the plateau. Scattered all around were deeply decayed ruins, with only crumbled stones where walls or foundation once stood. In a couple of spots, splinters of rotten wood hinted at a large hall or palace. A few tufts of grass clung to life on top of the ruins. It was impossible to imagine what the Sacred City has once been. Behind the ruins, the mountain—just bare rock—continued up. The clouds closed in on them, darkening the scene. Around the ruins' edges were four large, stony mounds, with another behind the sandalwood tree.

But that one … moved. Brown and earth-like, it looked like a cross between a lion and a hippopotamus, but huge, twice the size of an elephant, with a thick, earthen hide, wings, and a single, stubby horn on the middle of its forehead. The creature walked lazily toward Young-hee making
hrumph
noises, its steps shaking the earth and shattering stones.

“Oh wow,” said Young-hee, “that's a
haechi
.”

“Indeed. And that's really bad news for us,” said Samjogo, reaching for his hyeopdo.

“Is it another evil monster trying to kill us?”

“Worse. It's a guardian of goodness, honor, and justice.”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

“Not for us. You only summon a haechi to guard something very, very important that you firmly intend to keep from anyone else. Haechi are not the smartest guardians in the realm, but they are probably the most powerful.”

“Oh. Great,” Young-hee said. Tiger stood bravely in front of her, ready to defend her as always. The haechi came to a stop halfway between Young-hee and the sandalwood tree. Closer now, Young-hee saw swirling designs rippling his hide like the surface of a stormy lake. “Uh, hello, Mr. Haechi?!” she called and waved, suddenly felt foolish, halted, felt just as dumb giving a half-wave, so resumed. In the end, it was probably a three-quarter wave, and she still felt dumb.

The haechi blandly tilted his head. “Hello, young travelers, and Tiger. What brings you to such a distant, difficult part of our realm?”

Young-hee gulped and walked forward. She felt Samjogo trying to pull her back, but she brushed his hand from her shoulder. “Well, Mr. Haechi, I am here for a pullocho. I have traveled very far and encountered many trials, but I need it to save my little brother.”

“I see,” boomed the creature. “That does sound like a noble venture, suffering and sacrificing for family. But, alas, I cannot help you—there are no pullochos here.”

“No pullochos?” cried Young-hee, equal parts disappointment, frustration, and anger. That couldn't be right, not after all she had been through. “No, everyone said it's ‘
In the shadow of the first sandalwood tree
.' Please, let me search, just for a while.”

“That would be impossible,” said the gigantic guardian. “Outsiders are not allowed. Now, please leave my home.” Haechi turned and walked slowly toward the tree.

“But … But, please, Mr. Haechi. I need the pullocho. Surely I could at least look.”

“I understand your frustration. But my words were clear.” The haechi didn't bother turning to look at them.

“
Noble haechi
?” shouted Samjogo, his voice full of mocking. “Truest of all the great guardians? What kind of noble creature lies like that? There is nothing noble about lying and turning your back on those who need your help.” The haechi stopped and turned, definitely displeased. But Samjogo continued defiantly. “He won't let you look because he knows full well there is a pullocho here. Look at him, he knows what I say is true. The pullocho is here, but he just wants to stop you from getting it.”

The haechi glowered at Samjogo. The clouds grew purple and began to churn. “I do what I must and I say what I must, not to insult, but to protect my charge. If you realized what you asked, and what it could do, you would not be so quick to cast aspersions. Now leave, unless you think three small travelers can stand against an angry haechi.”

As lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed, the haechi looked as troubled as Young-hee and friends.

“Uh-oh,” said Tiger, “I think this storm is not the haechi's doing.”

A great wind whipped, rain fell, and lightning exploded in their midst, booming like an unholy drum, and knocking Young-hee, Samjogo, and Tiger off their feet. As the roar of the thunder and the rattling in her head faded, Young-hee realized that the lightning had struck the haechi. His skin steamed and smoldered, but otherwise he looked unhurt—just very, very angry.

“Look at this—kitty, bear daughter, and the sparrow have found the lost ruins where the last pullocho lies,” came a cackling cry from over the ridge. “Why, I do believe that's a haechi. A crispy, barbecued haechi.” Riding a huge black horse was a monstrous figure, carrying cymbals and hammers—Nwaegongdo. With him was the Lord of War carrying a cart full of even larger baskets.

“Storm Lord, War Lord, I will tell you what I told the others—this place is under my protection,” said the haechi, his thick tail slapping the ground. “Leave at once.”

Nwaegongdo smirked. “With that pullocho, we'll be strong enough to challenge the Lords of Heaven. And we'll happily go through you to get it.” At a signal, the red-face Lord of War dismounted, walked to the cart of baskets and set them alight.

“Oh, jeez, not those again,” said Young-hee.

Just then, beyond the wind's gusting, another sound whipped the plain—an empty, terrifying rattling. Across the field Young-hee saw a mass of figures with long, black hair and white hanbok, led by a thin, hollow-faced woman on horseback—the Ghost Queen leading her minions, more of them than ever.

“Enough!” shouted Haechi. He stomped the ground angrily, sending broken chips of rock flying, then stomped again and again. The third time, the ground shook and cracked as the whole hill rumbled. And then, with a great roaring, the four hills surrounding the ruins came to life. They shook off the dirt and grass that covered them, revealing more guardians, each as big as Haechi—a red bird that swirled with flame, a huge white tiger, a blue dragon, and a black thing between a turtle and a snake.

“Holy crap,” deadpanned Young-hee, gaping at the great guardians of the four directions, sent by the King of Heaven. Ordinarily she would have been pleased at recognizing the mythical creatures, but at the moment she was far too frightened.

“Is he a relative?” Samjogo asked, pointing to the hulking white cat flexing its huge claws just a hundred yards away.

“Very distant,” Tiger replied.

“This is really getting out of hand,” said Young-hee, reeling at all the creatures rapidly filling the mountaintop. The bird flapped its wings, sending a plume of flame across the field. “I'm assuming that's the Phoenix,” she said. “Dragon, Tiger … and some kind of snake-turtle creature.”

“Hyeonmu,” said Samjogo, “the Turtle-snake.”

“This is far too dangerous for all of us, but especially a bear daughter,” said Tiger. “We should get going. Stay close, and I will keep you safe.” Together, Tiger and Samjogo protected Young-hee as they backed away from the battlefield. Luckily, the spirits were intent on each other.

As the Lord of War's burning baskets crashed to the ground, tiny soldiers streamed from the magic fire. The four guardians snapped and growled themselves into fighting frenzy.

Young-hee wasn't so sure if either of her friends should put himself in front of her. The creatures squaring off against them looked quite out of their league. “Are they after me or the pullocho?” she asked.

“Does it even matter at this point?” said Samjogo, his blade moving in a tight arc in front of them. “The four direction guardians wouldn't even notice if they squished us flat.”

“Great …”

The wind howled as Nwaegongdo beat his drum and whipped up the elements. Each bash of his cymbals caused lightning to fly. “Come, lords and ladies of the underworld!” he chanted in time with his deep drum. “Join us in the Sacred City as we, at long last, vanquish the servants of Heaven, the guardians of nothing! Fight with us, demons of the deep, hateful spirits of the first things, creatures of the ancient darkness! Come Chiwoo, come Mother of the West! Come demons of the home and hearth, come spirits of the trees and rocks, of the ash and kettle and grave!”

And they came. As the storm lashed the lonely plateau, beating all with rain and hail and wind, Nwaegongdo summoned demon after demon to join the battle. Some came from storm clouds, others from cracks in the ground. There was a heavily armed ochre warrior—half-man, half-bull. There was a woman wearing jade jewels—her broken teeth were outside of her mouth and she had a leopard's tail. And more and more strange, disgusting creatures appeared.

The haechi and the four guardians roared and stomped, displaying their ferocity and unwillingness to back down, even though faced with ever-growing opposition.

“They're not really going to fight, are they?” Young-hee asked.

“I'm afraid it looks that way,” said Samjogo, warily eyeing the gathering hordes.

“And this is because of me? Because I led them here?”

“You were only trying to save your brother,” said Tiger. “Their actions are their own.”

But as Young-hee watched the forces growing she wasn't so sure. Demons may be demons and guardians, guardians, but she felt her presence had thrown Strange Land horribly out of balance.

Suddenly, on the far side of the ridge, the battle began for real, as the ghosts and their queen circled the Blue Dragon and attacked. The long, snaking dragon swirled and rippled like a ribbon on a stick—beautiful, if not for its violence. When the ghosts had been chasing Young-hee, they were all creep and menace—aggrieved spirits from beyond the grave, starving for vengeance. But here, on an open field, in daytime, squaring off against a dragon, they were almost cat-like, claws out and coiled, as they darted around the great, scaly guardian.