Gilded (The Gilded Series, Book One)

by Christina Farley

  “You don’t want to forget these.” He waves them in the air.

  “Right.” But all I can think about is the weight of the bracelet clamped to my wrist like a shackle.

  How long do I have until he imprisons me for good? And what about Marc? Am I putting him in jeopardy just by being with him? I remember those hands clawing to get out of the palace and the bones piled in the creek bed, and I stumble over a root. I try to swallow the hard rock lodged in my throat, because I know I don’t have much time.

  After dinner I head to the private room our class has reserved in the Dragon Valley Hotel for the ski party. My one and only job is to prep the hot chocolate. Yes, it’s an easy kind of job, but I can barely stir the chocolate powder into the steaming water. The sound of the screaming girls locked away in that palace fills my ears. Are they my ancestors, taken by Haemosu over the ages? Why would he even keep them there?

  And then there’s the bracelet. The one that won’t come off despite my tugging and pulling until my wrist is rubbed raw.

  I jump at every sudden noise, expecting Haemosu to strut through the door to take me away.

  I deserve this. Komo warned me. Grandfather did everything he could to stop this from happening. But they made it seem as if I had the chance to beat him. That I could fight him.

  Whatever. With a snap of his fingers, I was the equivalent of a stone statue.

  I know my odds of survival.

  Zero.

  I arrange the cups in neat rows. I resolve to deal with whatever happened in the forest later. Hiding the bracelet somehow helps. It’s dark out, and I remember my aunt telling me Haemosu has limited power at night. I’m about to have a meltdown, and I, Jae Hwa Lee, NEVER have meltdowns.

  “Jae!” Marc says, entering the room. He’s holding a stack of red boxes.

  “Pepero sticks?”

  “Stirring sticks.” He rips open one box and starts plopping chocolate-covered sticks into the paper cups. “Tell me you’re impressed.”

  “I’m impressed. You should audition for one of those competitive cooking shows.”

  We have a few minutes before the class leaders finish the games and send everyone our way, so we work quickly. Without saying anything, we’ve developed a system to get all the Pepero sticks in place. Marc rips; I dip the sticks into the cups.

  Rip, dip, rip, dip.

  I like the rhythm we have. We’re a team. I’m smile to myself, glad Mrs. Freeman paired us up. I feel a surge of gratitude for Michelle’s scheming, mixed with a little guilt for giving her such a hard time.

  The doors slam open, and swarms of students jostle through the doorway, filling the once-quiet room with laughter. I soak it up and let myself drown in the noise. It pulls my thoughts away from earlier, and soon I’m so busy pouring, mixing, and passing out hot chocolates that the bracelet on my wrist is almost forgotten.

  The line is backed up to the door; and as I pass a cup to Joey, Marc and I bump arms, and the hot chocolate sloshes all over Marc’s T-shirt. His eyes catch mine, and he smiles. My heart does the same flip that it did when I was barreling down The Cliff.

  I point to the word antique on his soaked shirt and say, “There. Now it looks authentic.”

  Soon the hot chocolates are distributed, and everyone is forming into small groups, laughing and talking. I wipe my chocolaty hands on a towel and look at Marc.

  With impeccable timing, Long Legs shows up in tight leggings. I focus on wiping down the table as Marc pours the last of the hot chocolate into cups for those who want seconds.

  “Marc! There you are!” Min of the Long Legs says, all bright under her glittery eye shadow and pink lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come hang with us.”

  The fuzzy wrap draped over her shoulders makes her look seductive. Compared to her I must look like crap. Strands of my hair have fallen out of my braid, and my lips are chapped from the wind.

  “Hey, Min,” Marc says. “Sorry. I’m busy here with Jae.”

  “Marc,” she continues in that thick, creamy voice of hers, beckoning with her hand to the group that Marc usually hangs out with. “You promised. Come on; everyone’s waiting.”

  “Sorry, busy.” He sweeps his hand over the hot chocolate stand, which is in fact all cleaned up.

  “We’re pretty much finished here,” I say to Marc, trying to give him a way out. “You go ahead.”

  “Tell the guys I’ll catch up with them later,” he tells Min.

  I freeze midstroke, the rag cold under my palm. Long Legs glares at me, spins on her Gucci heels, and tramps off.

  “I think you ruined her night,” I say.

  “She’ll be fine.” Marc picks up a hot chocolate and hands it to me. Then he picks up one himself and knocks our cups together in a toast. “To us.”

  “Us?”

  “The best hot chocolate team in South Korea.”

  I smile. “We should start training.”

  “Olympics?”

  I nod and sip my hot chocolate. We stroll pass a group of kids playing cards on the floor to the giant window in the corner of the room. He leans against the window and sets his cup on the ledge.

  “I did a little research on archery,” he says.

  I stare at him. “You did?”

  “After watching you the other day, I thought how cool of a sport it was, but I didn’t know anything about it. Did you know that an arrow shot from the Korean horn bow can travel the farthest of any other arrow shot from a bow?”

  I lift my eyebrows. “Yes, 145 meters, actually.”

  “And during the Three Kingdom period the Hwarang warriors developed their archery skills to unify the land.”

  I crawl up on the window ledge across from him, crossing my legs. “No, I didn’t. I guess I never paid much attention to the horn bow’s history.”

  We continue chatting about the Hwarang warriors and then he finishes his spiel on the history of Korean archery, but all I can think about is how weird it is that I’m actually enjoying hanging out with him. He’s the most normal thing in my life. And I need normal right now.

  Outside, the snow falls heavy and thick, piling up on the trees and on the snow runs, glittering under the spotlights. It’s magical and perfect, and I never want it to end.

  I glance over at Marc and realize he’s staring at me with those gorgeous eyes. I wish I hadn’t worn a sweater, because my cheeks are burning. I’m so hot.

  He studies me intently and then lowers his voice. “Do we have a chance?”

  My whole body screams to wrap my arms around him and say YES! but Komo’s words about Haemosu’s vengeance stop me. What if Haemosu sees me talking to Marc and hurts him next? Could I live with that?

  And even if Haemosu wasn’t in the picture, Dad would totally flip.

  “I don’t think we do,” I finally choke out.

  He looks away. “Could you at least tell me why?”

  “I should go,” I say abruptly.

  “Jae.” He grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him. The way he says my name melts my insides. “Don’t go. Stay.”

  His eyes study my lips, and all I can think about is how close we are. How his presence pulls at me. He reaches out his hand and runs his fingers through my hair.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers.

  Our faces are breaths away. I grab the front of his sweater for support because the world is swirling like the snow outside. Beneath my palms, his heartbeat thumps, alive and wild. His hands find mine and swallow them up. The gold ring on his finger cools my hot skin. He slowly rubs his thumb across my palm. My heart races.

  His lips touch my forehead, and his hands slide up to my wrist. Then he shouts and jerks back, holding his hand.

  “What’s wrong?” I say.

  “That bracelet.” His face is pained. “It burned me.”

  I stare at his hand, and sure enough, his fingers are red. I fumble with my sweater, pulling up the sleeve to study the bracelet, touching it lightly. It’s warm but not that h
ot. Then I notice one of the eyes of the five dragons has become as red as fire.

  “That wasn’t red before, was it?” he asks.

  No. It wasn’t.

  A shiver hurtles down my spine. The iridescent ruby eye is strangely lifelike, and it is staring at me. Watching.

  “Jae Hwa!”

  “Jae Hwa!”

  “Jae Hwa!”

  “Jae Hwa!”

  “Jae Hwa!”

  I spin round and round, the voices calling to me in the darkness. Where am I? I reach out my hands and grope the void, swiping empty air through my fingertips.

  A breeze catches my hair. “Help me,” it whispers.

  I blink and search for light, but it’s as dark as the deepest night.

  “Help!”

  “Help!”

  “Help!”

  “Help!”

  The voices gain in volume, pressing around me, crying over and over. I clamp my hands against my ears. “Shut up!” I yell. But the voices strengthen until I find myself huddled into a ball on the rough stone floor.

  Where am I?

  I already know the answer. I’m locked in a tomb with the tormented cries of my ancestors’ trapped souls. I want to help them. I do. But I’m no different than they are. I failed the first test with Haemosu just as they did. I let him touch me.

  My motivation to fight has flown with the wind.

  “Jae! Jae Hwa!”

  Someone is shaking me. My head is tucked into my knees; I lift it and shade my face against the light. I’m scrunched into a ball in the corner of the ski resort room. How did I get here?

  “You okay?” Michelle asks me as Lily wraps a blanket over my shoulders. “You were screaming and woke us up.”

  “I—I’m sorry. Bad dream.” My teeth chatter even though the ondol heating system under the floor seeps warmth through my flannels. Lily tucks the blanket tighter around me.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lily says. “We don’t mind. Let’s pull our yos together for moral support.”

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice cracking. “I’d like that.”

  So we drag the three yos next to one another and snuggle back under the covers while the snowstorm rages outside. I tuck the blanket up under my chin, willing my body to stop shaking. Lily passes out crackers, and we munch on them, listening to the howl of the wind.

  “That wind,” I say, then stop. They can’t understand how it reminds me of my ancestors’ moans. I’m alone in my misery.

  “Did you and Marc kiss?” Michelle asks. I suspect she’s trying to distract me from my dream.

  I sigh. “I wish.”

  My fingers find the bracelet on my wrist. I don’t tell her what it is or why we were distracted from our first kiss.

  “I’m thinking of kissing Kumar,” Lily blurts. “Do you think I should?”

  “Well, you spent enough of the day with him,” Michelle says. “I was totally the third wheel.”

  “You should absolutely kiss him,” I whisper. “Because you never know if a kiss will be your last.”

  In the moonlight, I catch Lily looking at me oddly, but then she says, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “And Michelle, you were right about Marc. I shouldn’t have given you a hard time about trying to hook us up.”

  She smiles sagely. “That’s what friends are for.”

  I fall asleep, this time dreaming of Marc’s lips on mine, his body pressed close. But every time we touch, the red dragon eyes envelope us in their crimson light. We run, but there’s nowhere to hide.

  When we arrive back in Seoul, I take the subway to Komo’s house rather than going straight home since Dad won’t fly in from his Jeju trip until later tonight. I decide to text him and let him know where I’ll be. Instead of ignoring my text or responding with an okay, he texts back.

  Missed you. Do you want to eat out when I get back?

  Surprised, I text: Missed u 2. How about shabu shabu 2night?

  I should be home by 6.

  I sigh, knowing there’s no way Dad will make it home by then. He works too hard. But I’m glad we’ll finally have some time together. I text back, a smile on my face: Sounds like fun.

  I’m dying to text Marc. We swapped numbers after we got off the bus, but what do I say? “Hey, we almost kissed last night except that annoying bracelet of mine messed stuff up. Want to try again?”

  No. That would be weird and awkward.

  Komo’s door flings open just as I’m about to text Michelle asking for advice. Komo whisks me inside, the door slamming behind me.

  “Well,” Komo says with a frown. “I heard you went skiing even after I advised against it. Still alive, I see.”

  I don’t bother telling her Dad thought it would be a good idea. Help me get my mind off stuff. Instead I show her the bracelet.

  She scowls, her eyebrows knitting close together. “I told you not to let him touch you.”

  It’s as if I’d been slapped. Of all people in the whole entire planet, I thought she’d understand. Now she’s treating me as if I’d done something wrong. “How did you know?”

  “My sister had the same bracelet.” Komo starts down the hall and sits on the floor at a small table.

  I want to kick myself. Haemosu made me feel as if I was special, different. How wrong I was. I fell for the same bracelet trick he’s been using for a thousand years.

  “That piece of information might have been helpful,” I say.

  After I slip off my boots, I settle onto one of the cushions as she pours me green tea. I scrunch up my nose at its sharp flavor and search for sugar.

  “It is good for your health,” she says. “Drink it.”

  I cup my hands around the green teacup. “I know I shouldn’t have touched him. It’s just—” I don’t even know where to begin with all the questions I have. “I need to understand what is happening to me.”

  “You are being gilded in preparation for the marriage ceremony.” She calmly sips her tea as if we’re just chatting about the weather. “Remember how Haemosu visited Princess Yuhwa five times and still she rejected him?” I nod. “It is my theory that he is reliving that rejection with each girl but hoping this time for acceptance. Those dragons’ eyes on your bracelet reflect each encounter with Haemosu. Think of it as a dating ritual; but in this case he takes a little part of your soul every time you meet until all five eyes burn red and you are his forever.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier?”

  “I was hoping it might never come to this. You had enough to worry about without knowing about the bracelet.”

  I wrap my arms around myself. “So he takes a little part of me each time? What does that mean?”

  “I only know what Sun told me.” Komo stares into her teacup, and her voice softens. “As time progressed, she felt a greater connection with the Spirit World. It was like she was half in our world and half in that world. She started seeing more otherworldly creatures. Portals between the Spirit World and our world opened up to her.”

  “Did that help her fight Haemosu?”

  “She was distant by that point. She never talked about it much. She used to write down her thoughts in her journal, but I never found it.” Komo focuses on me as if she had forgotten I was even in the room. “This is why you need to practice your Tae Kwon Do. With those skills you will have the power to defeat him. Tell me everything. Tell me how it happened to you.”

  So I tell her, even about my ski stunt on the slopes, the stars, and the weird deer part. She doesn’t interrupt. And once I start, there’s no stopping.

  Afterward she’s quiet. The room lies silent except for my fingers tapping the table as I wait for her to tell me what to do. I need her to have the answers. I sure don’t.

  The room has grown dark, and the house seems to creak under the strain of the wind. I search for a light switch to drown out the gloom settling in.

  “There were girls inside a palace,” I tell her. “They were trying to escape. Last night I dre
amed about them, and it was so real. Maybe it was real like that connection thing you were talking about. They kept begging me to help them. I think that’s what the dokkaebi was talking about. I think Haemosu’s not only been taking the girls, but imprisoning them, too. I just haven’t figured out why he would do that.”

  Komo’s eyes widen. She stands, knocking over her teacup in the process, and crosses the room to stare out the window. Her hand covers her mouth, and I see she’s shaking. When she doesn’t say anything, I go to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

  “That would be something Haemosu would do,” she finally says. A tear trickles down her cheek. “Not just take them, but torture them. Never let their spirits reach heaven.”

  That’s when I realize both of us have lost someone who meant the world to us. I think about Michelle and her thoughts about everyone having a purpose. Is this my purpose? Is that what Palk is hoping for and what Haemosu is so worried about? That I could be the one to save them? An insane idea, but if I don’t act soon, I’ll join those girls.

  I pull Komo into a hug because I can’t help but think this is exactly what Mom would do at this exact moment.

  “My sister is in there,” Komo whispers. “I am sure of it. We must free her. We must.” Then she wipes her face and clears her throat. “There is no time for looking back. Only time for what lies ahead.”

  “Is it even possible to stop Haemosu?” I ask as we begin to clear the table. “I felt so powerless against him.”

  “It would have helped if you had stayed out of the sunlight. Or fought him in our world.” Komo is all brisk-like again. “If you had not let him touch you and pull you into his lands. If you had listened to me.”

  “Komo, I can’t just live in some hole for the rest of my life.”

  “True enough.”

  I wander to the far wall and study the sword hanging on it. “The Spirit World has magical powers, doesn’t it? Like him turning me into a deer.”

  “Yes, that is one component. It is called metamorphosis. The transformation of one being into another.” She pulls the sword off the wall and hands it to me. “But he did not turn you. He gave you the idea, but you had to have the power within you to change. Even in his own lands, he does not have the power over you. Ultimately, it is your choice. Did he force you to run?”