Silvern (The Gilded Series)

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Silvern (The Gilded Series) Page 21

by Farley, Christina


  I take his clammy hand in mine and press it to my cheek. When I lay my head on his shoulder, his body trembles beneath me. My heart shatters. There must be something we can do.

  Grandfather leans down and pats me on the knee. “Maybe his mother will know some medicines that will slow down the process and give us more time to find a way to save him.”

  I bite my lips until I taste blood. I can’t stand any of this. I can’t stand not knowing what to do. Every choice has become a millstone, and I don’t want to make any more choices again. I take in Marc’s tattoo and the thin vine winding its way up his arm. The poison is making its way to his heart. I suck in a deep breath.

  Somehow, I manage a nod and stand. Marc’s hand slips from mine. He cranes his neck back to look up at me, and a shaky smile breaks loose.

  “Don’t worry, Fighter Girl,” he says. “I’ll be fine. I’m sure I just need time for my body to adjust. I’m feeling a heck of a lot better than last night.”

  I press my lips together and clench the handle of my suitcase until my knuckles whiten. I refuse to cry. I won’t. I must save all my energy and strength because something must be done. I don’t know what yet, but I can feel that energy building inside of me, screaming to come out.

  “Want me to come over and help you make a plan?” Michelle says, worry filling her eyes.

  “No.” I bow to Grandfather and give Michelle a hug. “I need to take care of some things.”

  “Remember,” Grandfather says, his eyebrows rising as he gives me a knowing nod, “the Council meets tonight to determine which portal we should use to enter the Spirit World to return the object.”

  I nod, not looking him in the eye. I know where the closest Spirit World location is. My archery center. But the words are lodged in my throat. I’ve avoided telling Grandfather, knowing that if I return the orb I lose the chance of using it to seek Komo. Now with everything that has happened with Marc and Kud, I’m even more resolved not to part with the orb. Not yet. Not until I know what the right choice is.

  “Be careful,” Grandfather says.

  “Don’t worry,” I say as I drag my suitcase behind me. “Nothing is going to get in my way tonight.”

  Halfway across the terminal lobby, I spot Dad running toward me, his jacket flapping haphazardly around him.

  “Back so early!” Dad exclaims. “Is everything all right? I haven’t slept a wink since you’ve been gone.”

  “I’m fine.” I fiddle with the handle of my suitcase. “We got everything done earlier than expected and came back.”

  He wraps his arms around me. “When your grandfather called, I was surprised, but all that matters is that you’re safe.” He looks over my shoulder at Marc slumped on the bench. “Heard Marc got sick while you were there.” Dad puts his hand on the side of my face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired,” I say.

  “I have meetings scheduled late tonight, but I am free later this afternoon for lunch. How about I drop you off at home and we can meet at Gwanghwamun?”

  “Sounds great.” I muster up a smile.

  “Wait!” Michelle yells after us. “I’m coming with you. We can plan our strategy before you go to lunch.” I open my mouth to say no when she adds, “And you’re not going to stop me.”

  How can I say no to that kind of determination? Besides, if anyone can solve a problem, Michelle can.

  “Two and a half more days,” I mumble to Michelle after Dad drops us off. “That’s all the time I have left before Kud steals Marc’s life away. I can’t bear the thought. Especially knowing that Kud’s back in his hellhole of a palace cackling away.”

  “Listen.” Michelle takes my hand as we head up in the elevator to my apartment. “You aren’t a quitter. I know you. This isn’t the time to give up. This is the time to fight back.”

  I roll my eyes. “Girl, he’s a god. As in an all-powerful god of darkness. I don’t think little me is any match for him.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She leans against the elevator wall. “Maybe you should just let Marc die without a fight.”

  “You really know how to get your way, don’t you?”

  “Always.” She grins. “How about we do a brainstorming session? You know I love those. Plus, I’ve got a really wild, crazy idea.”

  “Right now the wilder the better.” As I press my finger to the scanner to unlock the apartment, I can’t help but be glad she’s here with me. After everything that’s happened, I would’ve hated coming home to an empty apartment. We toss our bags onto the floor.

  “What are you thinking?” Michelle asks.

  “A million things.” I sigh. “There must be a way to stop Kud. Stop his insane idea of killing Marc. This is a no-win situation.”

  “Well, let’s start thinking of a million ways to stop Kud,” Michelle says.

  “Just don’t tell Lily about any of this, ’kay? She will freak.”

  The image of Kumar working on his computer at the Guardians of Shinshi’s secret headquarters squeezes my chest. I can only hope that Lily won’t be affected by any of this.

  I take out an old project poster and scrounge through my desk for a Sharpie. Michelle stares for a moment at the sheet covering my mirror. She raises her eyebrows. I shrug and tape the poster to the wall, scribbling across the top: WAYS TO STOP KUD.

  Michelle starts her search on the Internet while I drag out Mom’s box of old books. “There’s bound to be something in here that can help us,” I mutter.

  “Semiwon is supposed to have healing waters that bring peace and tranquility to a soul,” Michelle says after a few moments.

  “Where’s that?”

  “Just outside of Seoul.”

  I write it down anyway, then continue heaving out the boxes of Mom’s books I had crammed into the corner. Within minutes I’m practically buried in them.

  I’m flipping through an interesting article on Korean ghosts when Michelle yells, “Oh!”

  My heart dives into a near heart attack, and I leap to her side as she’s reading her tablet. But she’s only looking at a quaint brick inn with gardens in the mountains. She passes the tablet to me, and I read the article.

  Local Mystic

  Can decipher and assist with paranormal activity. Located in Heungjeong-li 303, Bongpyeong-myeon, Pyeongchang-gun, Gangwon-do. Phone: 343-34343.

  “It’s a hoax.” I pass the tablet back. “She would laugh us out the door.”

  Michelle lifts her eyebrows and pulls out her cell phone. “I thought you’d do anything for Marc.”

  “We don’t have time to run off on random tangents,” I say. “Going there would take a whole afternoon or more. Marc doesn’t have that kind of time to lose.”

  Michelle stares at me. “You’re glowing.”

  “What?” Can she see a silvern sheen, too? I thought only Marc could see that kind of supernatural thing.

  “Your shirt.” Michelle reaches over and yanks on the cord wrapped around my neck. “Do you have a glow-in-the dark necklace on or something?”

  Realization strikes me. I could slap myself for my stupidity. The orb. It’s a seeker orb. It searches for what you want, like when it helped me find Marc in the cave.

  “I’ll be right back.” I snatch the tablet from her and scurry into the bathroom. Once the door is closed and locked, I pull out the orb and whisper against its snowy-white surface, “Is this where Marc can find healing?”

  Michelle pounds against the door. “You promised you wouldn’t keep any more secrets from me,” she says.

  Ignoring her, I watch as the orb pulses to life with a quick flicker, as if it’s speaking to me. I sigh and lean against the door. Maybe this mystic is the one. Then again, I could be seriously delusional. I jerk open the door. Michelle’s arms are crossed, and she’s glaring at me.

  I hold up the White Tiger orb. “This i
s a seeker orb,” I say. “And I think it’s telling us that this mystic can help Marc.”

  Michelle and I part ways: she heads down into the subway station, I round the corner at a fast clip to meet Dad. I try to focus on the gentle breeze crossing my face, smelling of cherry blossoms and the promises spring loves to bring. The fountains are spraying toward the endless blue sky. The statue of King Sejong looms over a full eight lanes of traffic.

  Straight ahead, Gwanghwamun Palace stands impressively, massive gates, tall walls, and crimson-flagged guards surrounding it. I pause, the memories of Haemosu’s palace tumbling back. With them comes the remembered pain and terror of not knowing how I’d survive. I reach instinctively for the orb dangling around my neck. The need to touch it and be reassured by its power is nearly overwhelming.

  I stop and glance around. Shoppers and businessmen and businesswomen bustle past. Tall buildings rise high above, glittering in the spring sunshine. Cherry blossoms cascade from the trees and coat the sidewalk. A Seoul tour bus screeches to a halt, spitting out a handful of tourists.

  And that’s when my heart grows cold. A dokkaebi emerges from the bus along with the rest of the tourists. His monstrous bulk can barely squeeze through the bus’s doorway. He has to duck due to his sharp horns. Then he clomps onto the street, his red body naked except for a dirt-infested loincloth. He blinks in the daylight and swings his club as if ready to smash someone on the head. His eyes find mine and he grins.

  I spin around, but his reeking form magically appears before me.

  “Well, well, pretty girl,” he says. “You broughts me a pretty little treasure, yes?”

  “I’m still angry from the last time we met.” I glower, pretending my heart isn’t pounding in my chest. “Move out of my way.”

  “I know not what you speaks of.”

  I’m frowning with annoyance as the dokkaebi mimics my steps, when I notice the shadows around the building are also moving. The gargoyles and statues twist, blinking eyes. A black thing—half wolf, half dragon—stalks down an alley, eyes intent on mine. A swarm of lizards skitter round the corner, blinking against the brightness of the afternoon.

  Following my gaze, the dokkaebi says, “Yes, they wants pretty treasure, but I’s gets it first. Pretty girl owes me.”

  My pulse pounds against my temples. Things are getting out of hand. My phone rings. This is definitely not the time to answer.

  “I owe you nothing,” I say. “Should I call Haechi? He won’t be pleased.”

  The dokkaebi snarls, but one of the pedestrians comes up to me. It’s my dad.

  “Jae Hwa? Who are you talking to?”

  I swallow and lift my chin, glancing between the grinning dokkaebi and my frowning dad.

  “Hey,” I say, afraid to say anything in front of the dokkaebi. From the corner of my eye, I can see the other creatures sliding out of their hiding places, growing closer. My mind flies, trying to come up with a solution.

  “You’re on time,” I continue, trying to keep my voice upbeat. I step backward, away from the dokkaebi. “I’m starved. You?”

  Dad hesitates, his eyes darting about, and I watch his grip tighten on his briefcase. “Are you feeling okay? You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  “I’m fine, fine, fine,” the dokkaebi mimics from behind me.

  I wince, listening to the dokkaebi’s sick cackle over my shoulder. I’m so tempted to smack him in the jaw, but instead, I smile at Dad, pretending I can’t hear the trickster.

  “I’m practicing the speech that I’m going to present to the school in two days explaining our trip,” I say as we enter the restaurant.

  “Trip!” The dokkaebi’s voice ripples with excitement as he follows us into the restaurant. “Yes, trip, trip, trip. Trip is where pretty girl finds treasure. Give me treasure, pretty girl.”

  “That’s great,” Dad says. His voice sounds forced, and his forehead is puckered up. “You’ll have to practice it on me. I want to hear all about your trip.”

  My hands shake as I check my phone. There’s a missed call from Grandfather.

  “Jae Hwa.” Grandfather’s accent comes across thick in his message. “I wanted to check on you. Your father says the two of you are having lunch. This is good. We need to talk about the fate of the orb. It must be returned to the Heavenly Chest tonight. As long as it is out in the open, it and you are in grave danger. I will be expecting you at the Council meeting at headquarters tonight. Kumar is calculating which portal is closest to enter.

  “And remember my earlier warning, do not touch it. I know it helped you fight Kud, but we do not completely understand its power.”

  I lower the phone and slip it back into my jacket pocket. We’re seated quickly, thanks to Dad’s reservation. The white tablecloth is tight and crisp, and the square rice paper lantern on the table creates a calm atmosphere. Scanning the room for exits, I take in the jagged chrome beams set sporadically around the room and the sleek slate flooring. When I focus back on Dad, I realize he’s scrutinizing me intensely. I must look like a disheveled wreck. When was the last time I showered or ate a proper meal?

  “It’s good to see you back in South Korea,” Dad says. “I don’t function well with sleep deprivation.”

  I pull out my gift for Dad from my minibackpack. “As promised.”

  Dad smiles and unwraps my package. “Ah!” He pulls out the ginseng. “My favorite. And stamps for my collection. Your umma would have loved these. Did you know we started our collection on our honeymoon?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “We went to Kauai, Hawaii.” Dad stares at the stamps, but I get the impression his mind is far from here.

  I can’t remember the last time Dad talked about Mom like this. I’ve been waiting for the moment where we can talk about her without one of us being angry or hurt, but now that it’s here, my words are all jumbled in my throat.

  Just as I’m letting myself relax, the dokkaebi clomps up to our table. I’m surprised the entire restaurant doesn’t hear his stomping or cringe at his reeking smell. I focus on ignoring it because I’ve no idea what to do or what this dokkaebi is capable of doing.

  “No, no, no, pretty girl. I’s not likes this. You must give it to meeee. Now!”

  The dokkaebi smashes his club onto the table. The porcelain plates fly, airborne. My teacup topples to the ground, shattering. Both Dad and I leap out of our chairs.

  “What was that?” Dad asks, wide-eyed. “Did you do that?”

  “No,” I say, but then, not wanting to explain the dokkaebi or give his obnoxiousness any credit, I say, “Yes, actually, it was me. Master Kim says we need to practice a new move where if done correctly, even a teacup wouldn’t move.” I flash Dad a shaky grin.

  “Teacup wouldn’t move, teacup wouldn’t move,” the dokkaebi mimics. Slobber drips from his mouth and puddles on the tablecloth.

  Everyone in the restaurant is staring at us. Dad loosens his tie and tilts his head to crack his neck back into place.

  “What’s going on, Jae?” Dad tosses his napkin on the table. “You can’t do this in public.”

  I take a deep breath as two servers rush over and reset the table back to perfection, even replacing the silverware.

  I apologize profusely while Dad slips them extra won to cover the damage.

  Then my nightmare grows. More creatures appear, crawling out of the woodwork, literally, sliding in under the doorways and trailing through windows. I rub my palm over my eyes, wondering if I’m completely losing it. Dad’s giving me a rundown of his workday, and the noise in the room is deafening. I want to clamp my hands over my ears and drown it all out. But I refuse. I won’t let them intimidate me.

  The food arrives, but there’s no way I can eat my pasta. I slap my napkin down in frustration and plaster on a smile for Dad.

  “I’ll be right b
ack,” I say. “Restroom.”

  I waltz to the back of the restaurant. I can feel hundreds of eyes trained on my back. At the bathroom door, I snap my fingers, and the creatures follow me. A light classical music is playing in the bathroom. Scented candles are lit along the sink counter, and hand towels are set out in perfect white stacks.

  I’m starting to love the irony of my life. Perfection mixed with insanity.

  The creatures crash through the door, clambering over each other. Snarling. Growling. I’ve no idea what half of these creatures are, but I know that I have a few brief seconds before they attack me, ripping my body into pieces. I may have conquered Kud’s assassin, but I’m hardly a match for the dozens that surround me.

  I know I shouldn’t be messing around with the orb, but desperate times call for desperate actions. I slip it out of the pouch. It’s hot to the touch. The glow is such a bright contrast to the dim lighting that even I’m nearly blinded.

  The creatures leap through the air, diving for the orb. I whirl into a wheelhouse-kick, scattering creatures into heaps onto the floor. Still, there are nearly fifty of them. How long can I last?

  Heat seeps from the orb into my palm. My heart quickens, stronger, as if I could run a marathon. My vision sharpens. I can make out each individual creature’s breath, each nostril bulging, even the individual hairs on their skin.

  “Stop!” I command, holding my arm out as if to hold them back. “Don’t come any closer.”

  The creatures shrivel back, mouths gaping wide. Slowly, they creep into the corners, cowering.

  I glance at myself in the mirror and almost drop the stone in shock. A silvery glow washes over me until my leggings, boots, and shirt are practically sparkling. My hair whips around me in some unseen wind. I look so beautiful, I hardly recognize myself. It’s as if the orb has taken every part of me and made it complete and perfect.

  I no longer feel insignificant and small, but strong and fierce. My black hair is radiant, my skin glows. Energy rages through me as if I’ve gulped down a million cappuccinos.

 

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