Gilded (The Gilded Series, Book One)

by Christina Farley

  I slide my finger gingerly over the scroll’s rough surface. I expect grime to gather along my fingertips, but instead my fingers are caked with gold. The particles rise from my hand in a glittery spiral above the scroll and stream toward the mural.

  The gold dust fuses into the outline of Princess Yuhwa riding in the dragon-led chariot. Beams of light shoot from the walls. The princess turns to me and stretches out her hand, saying, “Help me!” in Korean.

  My head pounds, almost as if the drums from the museum ceremony are beating again.

  This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

  My hand shakes, and before I realize what I’m doing, I reach out and grab hold of her hand.

  Gravity chains my feet to the floor, resisting the princess’s pull. My bones can’t take much more pressure. But then I fall head-first through the mural into blinding light. I clamp my eyes shut and fight against the instinct to curl into a ball. I hit a hard, cold surface, and my body smashes against a wall.

  When I open my eyes, I expect to see a chariot or perhaps the princess. They’re nowhere in sight. Instead, a heavy mist drifts over toothed rocks at my feet. I manage to lean against the small pagoda behind me, my arm still aching from being pulled to wherever I am.

  What is this place? What just happened to me?

  I take a deep breath and slowly release it. That’s what Master Park from Tae Kwon Do class tells us to do in overwhelming situations. I can totally handle this. I must have fallen or something. That’s it. Just like I did next to the sweet potato lady. I need to find my way back to wherever I was.

  The wind rails against my cheeks, whipping my long hair across my eyes. I cling to the vertical wooden beams running alongside the pagoda to keep myself balanced against the gusts. I’m about to take my first step when the wind shifts, pulling away the mist.

  My foot hovers over nothingness.

  I scream. My heart plunges to the pit of my stomach. I claw for the pagoda, all the while eying the vertical drop of maybe a freaking thousand feet.

  Oh God.

  My heart struggles to regain a steady beat. I press my body against the pagoda, fighting the storm that’s desperate to toss me off this pinnacle. Fighting the need to throw up.

  I will not panic, I tell myself over and over. But my hands won’t stop shaking, and my legs buckle underneath me.

  The wooden walls I’m clinging to, with their Chinese characters engraved on them, become my entire focus. I hardly know any Chinese, but I recognize some of these. I try to focus on them, hoping the sight of something familiar will help me pull myself together. Because I’m totally losing it.

  Soo Jin

  Young Mi

  Hana

  Min Sung

  Wait. These are names. The entire pagoda’s surface is carved with them. But why? I shuffle along the edge of the pagoda, reading the names I can decipher and hoping to find the door leading inside. If there is one.

  As I move, I realize the pagoda is more like a small shrine, with a diameter of about ten feet. It’s built on top of a rock pinnacle, with a small, maybe-two-foot ledge circling it. I have yet to see a ladder, stairwell, door—anything to show how this place was even built.

  Farther along, I come to a section where the ledge is so narrow that one misstep will send me flying. My winter coat lashes at my legs. I grip the ledge until my knuckles are white, paralyzed even to attempt this section.

  Characters. I just need to focus on them, and that will distract me. That’s when I read something very strange. My vision blurs, and I nearly lose my grip.

  The names are all too familiar. My great-aunt’s, Lee Yang Hee, along with another name, Lee Sun, is carved there.

  And then.

  On top and blazing in gold.

  My name.

  Lee Jae Hwa.

  My pulse throbs against my temples. From the corner of my eye, I spot something on the horizon, moving through the air like a bird. I wait as it grows closer, hoping it’s a rescue of some kind, but soon I realize it’s a dragon-led chariot. Except Princess Yuhwa isn’t driving it. It looks like a man.

  I suddenly remember Grandfather’s story and scoot back along the shrine’s edge. The chariot draws closer. I can see the gold-plated scales on the dragons and the gleam of their red eyes.

  Then I hear a voice calling my name.

  “Jae Hwa!”

  I search the area for who is calling me, but I can’t find anyone. “Help!” I yell.

  The rock floor is wider in this section, and for a moment I’m relieved until I realize this is where I started. Which means there isn’t a door into the shrine. There’s no escape.

  “Over here, Jae Hwa!” The voice sounds like Grandfather’s. With my back pressed against the pagoda, I stare out over the edge where I hear his voice; and there, through a shimmery mirage, I can just make out Grandfather, reaching for me through the clouds.

  “Jump, Jae Hwa!” he shouts. “Jump before he finds you!”

  He wants me to jump off a pinnacle that’s forever high. Right. That makes a lot of sense. But then, what about this place makes sense?

  “You cannot run from me, my princess,” another voice, rich and deep, calls out. “You are mine. We are destined to be together for eternity.”

  Careening around the corner, the dragons emerge. Snorting. Their scales reflecting the beams of the sun.

  Deep breath.

  I leap off the pinnacle, stretching my body toward Grandfather’s outstretched arms. For a heartbeat I’m suspended over nothingness, falling through the mist.

  And I wonder if I’ve just leaped to my death.

  But I haven’t. My hands meet Grandfather’s, warm and strong. He drags me through the blinding light until I’m tumbling across the cave’s sand-scattered rock floor. He quickly unfurls a huge black tarp, then digs through a chest and procures a roll of duct tape. I gawk at his calm and efficient movements as he starts duct-taping the tarp over the mural.

  “Haraboji,” I finally manage, breathless. “That mural—it took me to this place.”

  He doesn’t even glance my way. “Help me. This will block off all light from the cave. He will not be able to enter.”

  I jump up and grab the other end of the tarp, holding it tight against the wild wind, and together we secure it against the wall. As we do, the wind vanishes.

  I stand still, expecting the dragons to come bursting through our makeshift barrier, but nothing happens.

  “You need to tell me right now what’s going on,” I say.

  “Haemosu still seeks his princess, his bride who escaped him.” Grandfather wipes sweat from his brow. “You did not listen to me. I told you this island was dangerous.”

  “You could have emphasized the danger more.” I cross my arms. “So what is with this Haemosu guy? Wasn’t it like a thousand years ago that Princess Yuhwa left him?”

  “Indeed. But to a demigod a thousand years is nothing. He hunts and kidnaps the oldest unwed female of each generation of Habaek’s family.”

  “That is—” I want to say “freaking impossible.” But how can I deny what I just experienced?

  “Princess Yuhwa’s bloodline pumps through your heart. You are the oldest female in this generation,” Grandfather explains, snuffing out one of the sconces. “But you already know this.”

  I think about my name glowing in gold. “So that was him back there. Coming to kidnap and whisk me away in his chariot.”

  “Yes.” Grandfather frowns. “This is why I told your father not to bring you to Korea. We should leave this place. It is no longer safe.”

  This is all too much to process. But then the words no longer safe rise out of the muddle in my brain. I swallow. “You were able to save some of the girls, right?”

  As if to avoid my question, he turns toward the weapons lining the far wall. Swords gleaming in the firelight. Bows waiting to be plucked off the wall and strung.

  “My great-great-grandfather had hoped to kill Haemosu. He collected a
ncient—and what he believed—magical weapons. He failed. So similar to Habaek, when he tried to stop Haemosu from taking away Princess Yuhwa.”

  “You act like I’m already dead.”

  He hesitates before snuffing out another sconce. “The only survivors were those who married before they turned fifteen, or those who left the country. Haemosu must relinquish his power to the immortals of other lands.

  “Your father deemed all this nonsense even after I showed him these scrolls. But the proof is here.” Grandfather gently picks up the scroll on the table.

  That does sound like Dad. He only believes in what he can see and touch. It was always Mom who believed in the spiritual. My heart squeezes.

  A gust of wind tears through the room and extinguishes the third sconce. A crash vibrates down the tunnel, followed by footsteps. Only the last torch on the wall keeps us from total darkness. Someone is coming. Haemosu?

  But it’s only Dad, storming into the room like a tsunami.

  “What have you done?” he bellows at Grandfather. “You promised never to take her here.”

  “I was saving her.” Grandfather lifts his chin and straightens his back. “I told her not to come. She would not listen.”

  “You’ve filled her mind with nonsense, haven’t you?” Dad says. “I told you, I begged you to keep the peace!” Dad focuses on me. “Don’t believe any of it,” he tells me, his eyes pleading. “Don’t listen to his lies.”

  “But what if he’s right, Dad?” I ask, not really sure I believe it all myself, yet unable to explain being sucked into a mural and chased by a dragon-led chariot.

  Dad stares for a second. Then: “Look what you’ve done!” He points a shaking finger at Grandfather, windblown hair hanging over wild eyes. “This must stop!”

  I’ve never seen Dad lose his cool like this. He may have lived in America all his life, but he always held to the Korean traditions of respect and honor to one’s elders. I press my back against the clammy wall.

  “I am trying everything I can to save her.” Grandfather clenches the scroll in his hand so tight, I’m worried it might crumble.

  “Like you did with Sun and Eun. You drove them insane with all your stories and incantations. I won’t allow you to infect my daughter.”

  Sun. I think back to the pagoda on the pinnacle. Wasn’t that the name directly under mine?

  “Who are Sun and Eun?” I ask.

  A strong wind sweeps down the corridor, swirling around the three of us. A tip of the tarp tears free from the stone wall. Light shoots from the corner of the tarp, and a wind gushes into the cave. I watch in horror as the celadon incense burner crashes to the floor, breaking and scattering like green sand. The tarp erupts into an inferno, and I dive for the scrolls and books, bundling them in my arms, expecting to see the dragons raging through the blaze at any moment.

  “No!” Grandfather leaps toward the flames, yanks off his coat, and starts beating out the fire with it. It’s useless. The fire only grows, as if some magical force is at work.

  “Haemosu!” Grandfather yells. He glares at Dad. “You left the door open and allowed the light in!”

  “It’s a fire, Abeoji.” Dad shrugs off his coat and joins in Grandfather’s attempts at beating out the fire. “This isn’t about mythological creatures!”

  I’ve no idea how the light has anything to do with this, but it’s too late for accusations. The flames lick the scrolls like hungry serpents. Heat burns my skin, and smoke chokes my lungs. I start coughing. Through the gray haze, I see Dad trying to pull Grandfather away from the firestorm, yelling in Korean for him to get out.

  Then Dad focuses on me, and there’s pure panic in his face. I suddenly understand that losing me would probably kill him. He pushes me out of the room. We all rush down the tunnel, doubled over from coughing, and burst out of the cave onto the beach. I suck in fresh sea air and clutch the few scrolls I rescued tight to my chest.

  Black smoke now puffs from the mouth of the tunnel and spirals up in the air.

  “I could not save any of it,” Grandfather says, his face sooty and his once-crisp clothes burned and ragged. “Everything—gone.”

  “Not everything,” Dad says. “The two of you are safe. That’s what matters.” Then he holds my face between his hands, staring at me with such intensity. “I couldn’t bear losing you, too.”

  I’m not the hugging type—at all—but those words send my emotions out of whack, and the reality of what just happened overwhelms me. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them. I drop the scrolls and throw my arms around Dad. He stumbles back as if surprised, but he doesn’t pull away. He holds me tighter and stares vacantly at the smoke, as if lost in another time. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” he mutters. Then he seems to come out of his stupor, letting out a long breath, his jaw set. “We should leave.”

  “Now?” I dry my face with my sleeve. “What about meeting the rest of the relatives?” I’m grasping onto every excuse to spend more time with Grandfather.

  “Yes, now,” Dad says, insistent, as if he too is running away from something. “We should never have come.”

  “You cannot leave now,” Grandfather says. “Not after what has just happened. Haemosu knows she is here. Nothing will stop him until she is his!”

  “You lied to me.” Dad scowls at Grandfather. “You promised you’d take medication for your delusions. You promised there would be no more drama. And here we are. Barely alive. You nearly got her killed with your ridiculous torches and caves and weapons. Jae will have no part in your life from now on.”

  “I won’t go.” I cross my arms. “What if Haraboji is right? I need to figure this all out.”

  “There is nothing to figure out,” Dad says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and directing me down the beach. “We need to get you back home where it is safer. Remember that ski trip you wanted to go on? Any more of these antics, it’s off.”

  I stumble back across the stone bridge after Dad, still shaken by everything that happened. My mind whirls in a hundred directions, and I’m not sure what to believe anymore. Will I really be safer at home?

  Back at the house, I shrug into my thick cable-knit sweater and head out to the car, hating myself for leaving like a coward but not knowing what to do about it. Grandfather stops me at the door, saying, “I have something for you.”

  He unzips a black case and pulls out the Blue Dragon bow from the cave. He hands it to me. “A gift.”

  The bow lands heavy in my arms, sending my heart sailing. I stare at him, a smile curving across my lips. “How? I thought you couldn’t save anything!”

  “I went back afterward and searched through the wreckage,” he says. “Some things are not meant to disappear until their purpose has been met.”

  What is he talking about?

  Then he draws me into a hug, and I’m so surprised I just stand there like a stuffed crane. He smells like kimchi mixed with smoke. I never imagined today would end like this. It’s weird how all morning I wanted to get back to my friends. Now all I want to do is stay.

  He whispers in my ear so Dad can’t hear: “There is another who can help you.”

  If I was stiff before, I’m now a block of ice. Grandfather slides a piece of paper into my palm and then steps away. I crunch the slip into my fist so Dad can’t see it and trudge out to the car.

  Snow falls in heavy chunks, laying winter’s blanket over the land, but my blood is pumping. It’s as if I’m waking up and seeing a whole new world. I slouch down in my seat and glance at the piece of rice paper no larger than my palm.

  It reads:

  Master Kim 02-756-6715

  47 Namsan-dong 2-ga, Jung-gu, Seoul

  I tuck it into one of my jean pockets, wondering who this Master Kim is. I hope he has at least one answer to my fifty million questions.

  When we get home, Dad is inspired to ground me for eternity after my stunt on the island. I have to admit that considering what actually happened—and there’s no way I
’m going to tell him—he probably has a good reason for this. Fires and dark caves on forbidden islands are enough to freak out any parent, much less ancient gods kidnapping their daughters from another world.

  I stand numbly in the middle of our living room, trying to process everything Grandfather said and my own experience of being pulled into the mural. My world stands off-kilter. It’s as if someone has twisted each part of my life a little to the left and now nothing from my past looks the same, while my future is a gaping hole of uncertainty. I don’t even understand who I am anymore. Or what I’m supposed to do.

  “Where did you get that?” Dad nods to the bow case strapped to my back.

  “Haraboji,” I say. “It was a gift.”

  He opens his mouth as if to say something but then shakes his head. Ashen faced, Dad abandons his suitcase by the door and marches directly to the hallway closet. With shaking hands, he opens the safe where we keep our smaller treasures and legal documents. I still remember how he’d taught me the combination when we first arrived in case anything happened to him.

  He ruffles through the documents, literally tossing our passports and checkbooks to the floor in his haste.

  “You’re scaring me, Dad,” I say, and watch as he pulls out a small black pouch that was tucked away in the back corner. His hands tremble as he unties the string and two tiny objects tumble into his palm. One silver. One gold. It’s the gold that catches my attention. A simple band with a diamond sparkling on top.

  “Mom’s wedding ring,” I say. My voice chokes.

  Dad squeezes the rings into his palm, forming a fist. “It’s all I have left,” he whispers. He rubs the sweat off his forehead, but his eyes look softer, more himself.

  “You still have me.” I hold his fist in my hands.

  “Yes. And I won’t let anything happen to you, Jae.” Tears fill his eyes even though I know he’s trying to hold them back. “Your grandfather means well, but he’s not right in the head. He hasn’t been for a very long time. If he tries to contact you, don’t listen to him. He can only hurt you.”