The Silence of Bones

by June Hur

  I tapped my finger against the veranda, thinking. “Then what about Councillor Ch’oi? You said His Lordship summoned Shim to his residence—you have no idea what they talked about?”

  “No. I wish I could be of help, but as close as Officer Shim was to Inspector Han, I know little about him. Besides the fact of his illegitimacy, he is a mystery.”

  “I also know that Myeonmok village is his—” My heartbeat suspended in midair as my attention shifted to the village’s name. Myeon-mok. Names in our kingdom were packed with meaning. I didn’t know what myeon meant, but the word mok sounded familiar. We called the field where ranchers tended to horses mok-jang.

  “Do you know where Myeonmok village is?” I whispered.

  A pause, and then Ryun said, “I do.”

  “Does the village have anything to do with stables?”

  “The village is famous for its horses.”

  “Why do they raise horses there?”

  “The village is located at the base of Mount Yongma in the town of Goyang, and that is where it came from, the legend you told me about. They believe the yongma horse-dragon spirit descends upon the stables every New Year, and that is why their horses are so strong and fast.”

  I clutched my skirt, knuckles white. “Myeonmok village. This is Officer Shim’s hometown, and this must also be where Madam Byeol conceived Councillor Ch’oi’s illegitimate son. I was told this, that Madam Byeol was from a town close to Mount Yongma. Her father was a rancher.”

  Ryun’s eyes widened and his brows rose high. “I think you are right,” he said. “There has to be more to these coincidences.”

  “What will you do now?”

  “I need to question servants,” he replied. “I am acquainted with a few in Councillor Ch’oi’s household. One of them might have heard what went on between the two.”

  “I hope so…” There was still a sinking weight in me that Inspector Han might have been involved in the killing. The possibility of Shim’s connection to Councillor Ch’oi did not prove Inspector Han’s innocence.

  But I hoped Ryun would prove me wrong.

  I looked around, noticing my surroundings again. The broken screen door creaked on its hinges, swaying back and forth in the wind. And ahead of me, I saw the pine tree with its sharp green needles, and there seemed to be something there. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if exhaustion was fogging my vision, for I could see a white haze watching me from beneath the branches.

  “You know this place.”

  Ryun’s voice startled me; it took a moment to gather my thoughts to reply. “I came here once out of curiosity. I heard this mansion was haunted.”

  “I mean, you know this place,” he repeated, and when I met his solemn gaze, I sensed that he knew something. “I was ordered to follow your trail before, Seol.”

  “Ordered? By whom?”

  “Inspector Han, after you left a mark on his face and he heard you say, ‘Never my brother,’ I followed you all the way to Madam Song’s inn. I wanted to find out why you’ve been digging into my master’s past, and through her, I learned that you were looking for your brother, a boy named Jeong Inho. I know that name. I know who it is, and I know the new name he goes by.”

  Shock jabbed at the tender spot right under my ribs. Breathing was painful as I waited for the questions, questions about why I had kept silent about my connection to Inspector Han, about why I had betrayed someone related to me by blood.

  Instead, Ryun kicked the ground, and said, “You shouldn’t have come back for him.”

  “What?”

  He raised his hands at me. “The inspector told me that. He said you shouldn’t have looked for him. There is an old saying that before a man embarks on a journey of revenge, he ought to dig two graves. He said his life has reduced itself to only that. Two graves.”

  Inspector Han’s life had no room for me.

  Ryun said no more. Some concern had sewn his lips together, or perhaps it was the expression on my face. I realized that my jaws were locked, teeth clenched, my eyes wide, and from the light-headedness, I imagined I must look frightfully pale. And I was holding my breath, resisting life so I could resist change from happening.

  I had so much fear in me.

  Fear that in this change my home would disappear. I had grown up under the memory of my brother’s stories of home, and in the twelve years that had passed without him, I realized that I had been waiting, that I had never truly left Heuksan Island. The home Brother had told me about, I had dreamed of arriving there one day. A home where there was no more sorrow or tears, no more deaths or farewells.

  A place of togetherness.

  But now this place would change into a haunted mansion full of strangers and ghosts. How could I embrace them? What did family mean when family had gone away and returned, scarred to the point of being unrecognizable? How could you embrace a stranger with haunted eyes that looked right through you?

  “After speaking with Madam Song yesterday afternoon,” Ryun continued, speaking slowly and timidly at first, testing to see how I’d respond, “Inspector Han reviewed your record, then journeyed for half a day to a government office in Inchon Prefecture. He interviewed the officers there that night and this morning, and returned to the capital hours ago … just in time for his arrest.”

  I swallowed hard, but the ball of pain wouldn’t ease. “What did he find out in Inchon?”

  “He found out why you were transferred to the Capital Police Bureau.”

  I knew why. My registration in the local government had transferred to the capital, all because of a passing remark, which I shared with Ryun now. “An officer told his superior that I was strong, that damos like me would help him regain Commander Yi’s favor.”

  “Did you overhear the discussion yourself?”

  “No … my sister told me.”

  Ryun shook his head. “That is not the story the inspector heard.”

  “What?”

  “Apparently, your sister was the one who cunningly convinced the government official. She is the one who told stories of your strength and courage. She did not tell you, did she, that Commander Yi was the closest friend of your father’s? She was probably afraid to let you know, lest you make obvious your association with a traitor. That is why she changed your name too, isn’t it? To keep you in the dark about your family’s past.”

  My heart hammered in my chest and I managed to say in a trembling voice, “Ridiculous…”

  “After so many years, and after your father’s treason, how could she know whether Commander Yi was friend or foe? But she must have known that sending you close to him would be sending you close to information about your brother.”

  Something like laughter shook me, leaping out of my mouth with twisting notes of madness. “My sister sent me to the capital?” I touched my scarred cheek, fingertips burning against the memory of humiliation. “My own sister…”

  “Do not blame her so much. What would you have done to bring family together? What is done is done, and right now, we need to help my master.”

  It was entirely like my sister to make such decisions, just like the cruel choice she had made long ago, refusing to follow our brother to Hanyang. Rejecting him. Then the bitterness winding my muscles loosened. But I … I had delivered my brother over to the police bureau, without trying to ask for his side of the story, too afraid to face him at all. I could not say who had made the crueler decision this time—my sister or myself.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “We must help him.”

  Ryun ran a hand over his face. “I was already concerned about my master overworking himself with this case. The physician kept telling him to rest, but he wouldn’t listen. And now this! I looked into his room earlier and saw him sitting in the darkness, so still. Frozen, almost. He’s unable to sleep, and whenever he tries eating, nothing stays down. I think he is afraid, and I have never seen my master so helpless.”

  Everything made sense now. Why I was here in Hanyang. Everything fit togethe
r.

  Almost of their own accord, my eyes turned up to the night sky, as though I were the dancing waves reaching for the full moon. I was reminded of the story my brother had told me long ago. Brother Moon and Sister Sun. It had left the deepest impression on me, the tale of two children who had tried to escape a tiger and so had climbed up a rope into the sky. The brother had chosen to lock himself within darkness so that his sister might not be scared.

  I didn’t know why, but I could feel my eyes light with fire.

  I would be the moon for my brother now. I would save the one whom I had once called orabeoni—Older Brother—whether it was to prove his innocence or to save him from his own darkness.

  “Ryun,” I said. “I am going to Myeonmok village.”

  TWENTY

  “TAKE CARE OF yourself,” Lady Kang said, and behind her, Sunhŭi stood and smiled at me. “Be brave and do what is right. For the weary and the frightened, create a paradise on the cold bones of this earth.”

  Clasping my hands, I bowed deeply and bid them farewell. I wondered if this would be the last time I’d see them, for soon they would be called traitors and condemned to death.

  Drawing myself back up, I tried to memorize their gentle countenances and smiles. They had fed me and had shared tea with me last night. Generosity and gratitude had filled every plate and bowl served to me.

  I did not believe in their Western God, but I knew that Lady Kang and her daughter must have been an aunt and a cousin who had loved me very well in a previous life.

  Lady Kang stepped forward. “Right now, the darkness before us is all we see, but the bright morning is sure to come.” Her large and bony hands then wrapped around my rough fingers. “I pray many blessings over your life, Seol. Wherever you go, may you be shown kindness after kindness.”

  * * *

  I lowered the brim of my satgat over my face as I made my way toward the soldier guarding the East Gate. I presented to the guard the identification tag lent to me by Lady Kang, which belonged to one of her manservants. He cast a cursory glance over me, and I knew that what he saw was a gray robe, ragged and dusty, secured by a black sash belt. The topknot all men wore, I wore too, hidden beneath my conical straw hat. I was to him a harmless, lanky young man.

  The guard gestured at me with his chin. Get going.

  I stepped out of the capital and took the road that wended east to where Mount Yongma, Mount Acha, and the Han River met. Even from where I stood, I could see the shadow of the mountains silhouetted against the early morning sky, painted purple. A shiver rippled down my limbs. The air was cold, and I was relieved that Lady Kang had thought to line my robe with cotton padding to keep the heat in. Overnight snow had fallen unusually early for autumn, layering the fields and mountains, white as bare bone.

  The sound of footsteps behind made me wary. It was a water carrier with pails hanging from a yoke, splashing their contents. His large eyes protruded from his burnt face, and our gazes met, only for a moment. I quickened my steps until he was but a spot in the distance.

  I no longer felt safe anywhere. No one could be trusted.

  The wind grew fiercer as I drew closer to the mountains. Their towering peaks blocked out the sunlight, leaving me in an icy sea of shadows. Strands of my hair escaped from beneath my hat, flicking across my face, obscuring my vision. Sometimes I saw only my streaming hair, sometimes glimpses of the purple sky and giant mountains. Holding back the strands, I paused now and then to look behind me, to make sure no one was following, before feeling safe enough to push forward.

  The journey was not meant to take too long, yet it felt endless, like the seemingly endless journey I had taken with my brother and sister toward the port after the end of our three years of banishment.

  I love Older Sister. I love the sky. I love the sea. I love the fishes in it. I’d listed all these things while running my fingers through the long grass. But best of all, I love you, orabeoni.

  Best of all.

  My fingers numb, I reached into my robe, and it took a while for me to feel the crinkled paper I was looking for. I slipped it out and unfolded the sheet on which I had drawn my brother’s face. His lightly shaded eyes, his round face, his timid smile.

  He belonged to the past, a place he would never leave, not even to come looking for me.

  I kissed the sheet and then tore it in half, then in half again, the paper hissing with each motion. I opened my fingers and let the torn pieces be swept away like moths on the wind.

  * * *

  Several hills protruded from the land, and Mount Yongma rose like the high storm waves, as though a gigantic dragon swam underneath. With every passing hour, more people appeared on the road, evidence that I was nearing a village of sorts. A farmer leading a string of ponies loaded with salt, a woman with a basket of country produce resting on her head, and another water carrier. I stopped each passerby to ask where Myeonmok village was located. They pointed, and their bony fingers led me to the southern base of Mount Yongma. My legs, which had carried me for surely more than five hours, trembled beneath my heavy heart.

  I had arrived.

  The scents of pine and snow filled my nostrils as I approached a village of rickety stables and thatched-roof huts. Horses with thickly lashed eyes watched me, nodding their heads while standing in their stalls. The first person I encountered inside this quiet village was an old man in a bulky white robe, sitting outside on a wooden stool as he brushed out his long, long black hair.

  He looked me up and down. “A stranger! Now, I have not seen a stranger since a month ago! He snuck into the village at night then was gone by the morning. Perhaps it was you?”

  My brows twitched. “No.”

  “I see, I see. Then what brings a young man like you to Myeonmok?”

  I cleared my throat and lowered my voice to sound like a man. “Questions.”

  “Mmm.” He continued to brush his hair, and I wondered if I was speaking to the wrong person, for the man looked rather ridiculous with his hair hanging down his shoulders. He also had an old man’s smell to him—strong, spicy herbs and ginseng.

  “Do you know Councillor Ch’oi?” I asked casually.

  “Councillor Ch’oi?” He laughed. “We know nothing about lords and ladies in these parts.”

  “How about an Officer Shim?”

  “Officer?” He pursed his lips and shook his head.

  “I am told a woman by the name of Byeol used to live here.”

  “No—” Then his cracked lips formed into a silent O. “You mean the ghost of Myeonmok village.”

  “Ghost?”

  “A few days ago, a man was drinking in the forest and heard cries coming from an abandoned well. He shone a lamp over but saw no one. He swears it was the ghost of Byeol. She threw her son into that particular well many years ago.”

  A boy thrown into a well. This matched Madam Song’s story.

  “Ghosts roam this world because they are kept here by too much anger,” I said. “So what made her accumulate so much pain and resentment?”

  Lowering his gaze, he continued to brush his hair. “The shaman comes down from the mountain every full moon and tries to resolve Byeol’s accumulated han. The shaman says collective repentance is the only way we’ll sleep peacefully at night.”

  “Collective repentance,” I repeated. “So you think the reason why Byeol roams this earth is because of the villagers?”

  He kept avoiding my gaze. One thing I had learned in the capital was how many dark secrets an individual had, layers and layers—like Soyi, who had taken days to confess her last secret, and I’d finally witnessed her release a few days ago, her mind and legs crippled by torture. This was what it took to find the truth, sometimes. But I did not have time to peel each layer off to examine them. I needed to speak with someone who would answer my questions, not clam up. “Where might I find the shaman?”

  He set his comb down and waved at me. “I will take you to her. All I’ve got is time.”

  I followed
him down the dirt path, through the village and its silent alleys, and at last we arrived before the forest entrance into Mount Yongma. A little to the side was a hut covered in strips of fluttering charm paper. The resident had left the door wide open, gesturing for any and all to enter without hesitation.

  “Go on.” The old man nodded. “I will follow in behind you.”

  I stepped in, and my nose was assaulted by the strong scent of herbs and oil and smoke from the incense that filled the dark room. Behind a low-legged table sat a woman smoking her pipe. Her face was rectangular, with deep pouches beneath her drooping eyes, her lips pressed together and pursed as though she found the entire world a great disappointment. Her hair, parted sharply in the middle and drawn tightly back, made her look severe and cruel.

  “A boy with yin energy.” Her voice was quiet and mischievous, the way one would speak when telling a secret. She took in a deep puff on her copper pipe and let the smoke seep slowly out of her lips. “How strange.”

  I squirmed. Was it that obvious to her that I was a girl dressed in men’s clothing? Women had yin energy, and men had yang.

  I cleared my throat, and in a deep voice, I said, “I have come here to ask about Madam Byeol. I would like to know more about her.”

  “Mmm. She is a stubborn, angry ghost. She has much han accumulated here on this earth…” Her eyes skimmed over to the man kneeling behind me. “Before she died, we all knew her to be the most beautiful woman in our region. But her beauty was her curse.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “An unsightly servant might become the wife of a lowborn man, but a beautiful servant will become a concubine, later discarded when she grows old. That is what happened to Byeol when she encountered a passing traveler; he was staying at our inn for three lunar months.”

  “Why so long if he was only passing by?”

  “She bragged that he was a secret royal investigator, come to survey this province.”

  Around three decades ago, how old would Councillor Ch’oi have been? I assumed somewhere in his thirties, surely. Young enough to have received such a royal appointment.