Silvern (The Gilded Series)

by Farley, Christina

  My throat burns. I wonder if the air within these passageways is poisonous.

  The corridor looms before me in shifting red waves, like heat waves rising off the pavement on a hot day. I take deep breaths to calm myself as I unzip my bow and tie my goong dae to my waist. Then I place the two bronze tips onto arrows and notch one into my bow before striding down the corridor, following the orb’s beam of light.

  The bones make the hike cumbersome, and at times I have to clamber over them, gritting my teeth at the thought of stepping on other victims’ remains so carelessly. With every step, my anger burns stronger. My fingers itch to shoot my arrow through Kud’s heart.

  Shadows begin to swirl around me. They sting my ankles, trailing their way up my calves beneath my pants. Terrified, I press my hands over my ankles, hoping to stop the pain.

  I pick up my pace, stumbling and crashing like a wild animal, hoping to outmaneuver the wisps of burning smoke. Soon the orb draws me into a new tunnel, this one filled with water. The walls are smooth as alabaster with arched ceilings. Candles are scattered about, floating on the water’s surface. I hesitate for a moment, unsure whether the water is safe, when I hear a sudden, high-pitched scream.

  My heart constricts, and I rush heedlessly through the ankle-deep water. The water burns my skin and tears at my flesh. I’m screaming until I stumble into a wider area, where I crumple to the floor in agony. The water must have been acid. I can’t even open my eyes to check on my injuries while my consciousness wavers. But within a few moments I recover, revived from the Spirit World’s power, I suppose. I manage to stand and stagger closer to the two massive pillars reaching far above. Candelabras stretch out on either side, flanking me like soldiers. The scent of candle wax hangs in the air.

  Droplets of fire rain down around me. Something plops onto my shoulder and sizzles. My eyes widen as I realize my jacket is on fire. I swat at my shoulder and spin in a circle, trying to wrap my mind around what is happening. That’s when I gaze above, into the arched ceiling. It’s carved just like the walls of the first tunnel, with more fiery symbols, and it casts down bits of sparks every once in a while like rain droplets.

  A scream shatters the stillness again, and I race to the source of the sound. I skid to a halt at the top of a stairway, nearly tumbling down.

  The room below reminds me of an ancient cathedral. Pillars span the open area, and arches roll one after the next along the sides, leading all the way to a platform at the far end of the chamber. Between each pillar, fire pits burn, casting up forklike crimson flames. On top of the platform sits a massive throne made of twisted metal rods roped around each other to resemble hundreds of snakes.

  Two clawlike bones rooted at the base of the throne curl above it to form almost a circle. Yet the ends never meet, instead displaying sharp tips at the top.

  And there sits Kud, arms draped over snake-head armrests, their tongues flicking out alive and hungry. He’s dressed in his black robe, his draping hood shadowing his face. The tendrils of his robe slither out, ravenous eels along the base of the platform, always moving.

  My eyes follow one particular tentacle that is taut and stretched out all the way to one of the thick stone pillars. The tentacle is wrapped around a body like a cocoon. My heart seizes as I recognize those wide brown eyes and the hair pinned back with butterfly clips.

  Michelle.

  I pull my bowstring taut and let my arrow fly. Before I even check to see if it’s hit its mark, I break into a sprint, screaming, “No!”

  I’m not even halfway across the open floor when panels in the wall burst open, and out bound five gigantic hounds aimed straight toward me. I stagger to a stop, backtracking as they bark, blood drooling from their jaws.

  The Bulgae.

  Or so the legends have named the dark god’s lapdogs.

  They don’t attack instantaneously, even though their eyes practically bulge from their sockets and their necks strain to devour me. Some unseen leash is keeping them in check.

  “So good of you to visit me, Princess.” Kud’s voice oozes across the hall as he plucks my arrow out of the armrest snake’s eye. “I was worried that you would never pay me a visit. Yet here you are. How timely.”

  “Let Michelle go,” I say, aiming at him once again with my bow. “She is not a part of this.”

  He laughs, a mirthless gurgle. My hate for him freezes me; it’s even deeper than anger.

  “You amuse me, Princess. Perhaps you are jealous? You should be.” He stands and his robe shifts, a swirling darkness. “She is beautiful and so full of life.”

  A tentacle loosens from Michelle’s lips. “Jae,” she says. “You were right. I shouldn’t have listened to him. I didn’t realize—” A sob catches in her throat.

  “You don’t need to apologize for anything,” I say.

  I let my arrow fly. It hits with perfect aim, sinking into where Kud’s heart must be, but he lifts his arm as if batting away a fly. The arrow clatters to the floor.

  “Do not bother with such trinkets. Unlike Haemosu, I do not have a heart. I am purely spirit. I exist on the darkness this land provides.”

  Michelle whimpers and tears stream down her cheeks from panicked eyes. I should never have let her get involved. This is all my fault.

  As if reading my thoughts, Kud says, “Insurance policy, as you humans like to phrase it. Two are more useful than one.”

  “Where is Marc?” I demand.

  “Somewhere.” He laughs again, as if this is a game that he’s been anxious to play for some time. I attempt to mask the dread that I’m sure is filling my face. How can I stop this monster?

  “Hand over the orb and all will be as you wish.”

  “I won’t negotiate with Michelle bound and held hostage,” I say. “You must let her go and return her to Seoul.”

  Kud’s form grows, expanding before my eyes. His hood falls back enough that I can see his gaping mouth. A piercing growl emanates from him, and the sickle lying by his throne sails to his fingertips. He pounds the ground with its hilt. The floor shudders, and the hounds howl in response, shaking their heads. Sweaty blood slobber flings across the stone floor.

  “Who do you think you are?” he asks. “Your games were once fun, but I know every secret you bear. Do not forget your place, human. I never take no as an answer, and you have tried my patience too long.”

  In horror, I watch his sickle spin in his palm and lift above his head. Fumbling, I grasp for my orb, which somehow has hidden itself back beneath my shirt. I clamp my fingers around it. An explosion of light bursts from the orb, and like a bolt of lightning, it hits the sickle.

  The tentacles release Michelle from the pillar and shove her forward, so she meets the tip of the sickle and it cuts into her chest. Her scream pierces the air, shattering my soul.

  She latches hold of the sickle and rips it out of the tentacle’s grasp. Then she spins around and plunges it into the hound beside her. The dog shrieks and collapses to the floor before evaporating to dust.

  “No!” Kud rages. “How dare you destroy one of my beloved creatures?”

  Michelle leans over the sickle, gasping, and glares at Kud. “Go to hell where you all belong.”

  The tentacles flock her, grasping for the sickle. She tries to fight for it but collapses to the floor. I’m at Michelle’s side, dragging her slumped body into my arms. I see nothing but darkness around me. My whole focus is Michelle, the orb illuminating her perfect face. It’s ashen now. Her lips tremble and her eyes widen with fear. She gasps, as if breathing is too difficult to bear.

  Blood gushes from the wound in her chest. My hands flutter over her body, my mind reeling.

  “You were my best friend,” she whispers. “I’m glad you told me your secret.”

  I shake my head, damned tears streaming down my face. “I’m going to save you. Just hold on for a little longer.”
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  “Don’t give him what he wants,” she gasps. Her eyes bulge. “You have to destroy him.”

  “Please. No. Don’t go!”

  “The swords.” Her voice is thinner than air. I press my ear to her lips. “He fears them.”

  Her body shudders, and her grip tightens on my arm. And then she lets me go, and her body sags against the floor. Her glassy eyes stare into the darkness, and I know she’s gone.

  “It seems you must learn the hard way,” Kud says.

  He hovers not far away, as if eager to watch Michelle take her last breath. Her body lifts from the ground and swirls in a circle. I latch on to her, wrenching her body to me. The pull is too strong. Her arm slips from my fingers. Screams fill the hall. They’re mine, as the pain hurtles through me in wave after wave. Higher and higher she lifts, and then she’s gone, vanishing into thin air.

  I drop to the ground, sobs racking my body. She didn’t deserve to die. She didn’t deserve to meet evil and confront it alone. My hand scrapes across something hard on the floor. It’s Michelle’s butterfly clip, sparkling in the orb’s light. I clasp it in my palm and press it to my chest.

  “How could you?” I grit my teeth. “She was innocent.”

  “Hand over the orb.”

  “Never.”

  “It appears you will also be the one to watch him die,” Kud says, his voice booming loud as if talking to someone else.

  With dread, I scan the room, trying to figure out who he’s talking to. That’s when a burst of fire rises from the floor, creating a wall barring me from the other side of the room. The shadows hovering in the corners are now illuminated in shades of red, flickering over a long row of bodies chained to the wall. All are skeletons except one that appears to still be rotting.

  And Marc.

  I didn’t think the pain tearing at my insides could get any worse. Marc’s tangled hair hangs over his eyes, and a jagged cut runs along his jawline, blood trailing down his neck. Without his shirt on, I can see the tattoo clearly, now almost radiating from his skin. The inky vine is an inch from his heart. Though his mouth is bound, I can read the pain mixed with anger flashing through his green eyes.

  I shake my head. “No, no, no.” My words come out anguished, pain-ridden, and desperate. But I can’t just watch Kud gloat. I think back to the time I golfed with Dad and how he said all that mattered was what was inside of us. But here in this place, facing Kud, those words feel petty, childish, useless. How could anything inside me overcome this?

  “What will be your choice?” Kud asks. “I will not stop with the deaths until you give me what is mine.”

  “Never.”

  I grasp the orb. Its power surges through me, spreading from my palms through my arms, and awakening every nerve in my body. My skin twists and pulls. I don’t even wait for the full transformation. I sprint toward Kud, and as I do, my body bursts into the form of a white tiger. My paws eat up the ground in seconds and I’m leaping, claws outstretched, toward this demon. My roar fills the room.

  Kud dives away with his mouth open in surprise. I fall on him, snapping at his neck, ripping at his cloak. Darkness slips around my body, and despite the brightness of my fur, I’m drowning in an endless nothing. His tentacles wrap around me, choking my neck, twisting around my paws. I snarl and flip in resistance, but here in this endless darkness, I can’t find him. Kud’s cords pull and tear at me everywhere.

  That’s when I see it: the Red Phoenix. It flies at me, claws outstretched. I roar, but with the bonds strapping me down, I can’t leap in attack. The phoenix dives at me, eyes dripping blood, and its claws rip across my mane and down my back. That pain in my back from my fall off the imoogi pricks at the base of my spine, and inch by inch it returns, burning like fire and creeping its way up my back, immobilizing me. I flick my head and clamp down on a tentacle, ripping it in half, refusing to allow the agony to stop me.

  But I can’t hold on any longer. The phoenix had known exactly where to attack me. That hadn’t been an accident.

  Soon I’m unable to move. I’m falling again until my head smashes onto the ground. When I open my eyes, I’m lying in a pool of blood. I groan as I survey the giant gash down both sides of my face, down my neck and back. Yet even with the blood streaming down my body, the rest of my skin sparkles like snow on a bright day.

  The bloodhounds grovel at my feet, their muzzles pressed to the ground, whimpering from the blinding light of the orb dangling from my chest. A sharp guttural growl erupts from Kud, and he almost smiles.

  “Look at you lying there, hopeless. You and your White Tiger orb are nothing compared to me,” he says. “Even with an icon of such power, you are powerless. Hand it over. You don’t deserve it.”

  A shot of light breaks from the orb across the expanse of the chamber to the throne. The orb must be trying to tell me something. A hint of steel glints from the tangle of the black iron throne. What could that be?

  Kud spins around to follow the light’s trail. Before he can react, I whip out my bow, and despite my bloody hands, I unleash another arrow into the spot highlighted by the beam.

  “Stop!” Kud yells out.

  He flings a finger at me. The tentacles swarm my body, like a nest of snakes. Burning, strangling as they twine their way up my body. Even still, Kud’s not fast enough, because my arrow has pierced the iron. An explosion of color erupts from the throne. Smoke billows into the air, and with a resounding clatter, two swords tumble to the floor. The swords I gave to Marc.

  The hounds resume their barking, teeth bared. The tentacles snarl around my waist, my stomach. I can’t feel my legs any longer. I’m sure if the tentacles weren’t so tightly woven around me, my legs would buckle from the numbness.

  I twist so that I’m facing Marc now. Fear claws my stomach. Choosing not to free myself from the tentacles is a risk. The darkness is so thick I can practically taste it, bitter and burning. I aim, worrying that I’ll miss, which makes my fingers twitch. But there isn’t time for hesitation. The tentacles squeeze around my chest, clawing for the orb.

  I draw back on the string and release my arrow. I send out a prayer as it flies across what feels like forever. The tentacles crush my ribs, and pain shoots through my rib cage as if someone had stabbed me. The sound of my ribs cracking mixes with the snarl of the hounds. My bow drops from my hand as I reach for the orb, doubling over in agony.

  This can’t be happening.

  Breathing is next to impossible, and my vision blurs. The orb pulses in my palm, warm and reassuring. I strike it to the tentacle wrapped around my chest, and with a sizzle, the orb burns my bonds. Smoke curls around me. With a swoosh, the tentacled cords tumble away from my body and snake back toward Kud.

  I crumble to the ground, my vision swimming. I press my palms to the floor, trying to focus on Marc. But when I search for where he was hanging, I see he’s no longer there. Panic ricochets through me.

  I look up just as Kud raises his sickle above me, the tip glistening.

  “Hand it over,” he says, in a booming voice.

  “The dragons said the orb would stay with me even into death.”

  Then I spot Marc racing across the hall, a sword in each hand. With a cry, he charges, lifting both swords, aiming for Kud.

  Kud spins. His sickle clashes against the swords. Fire sparks around them. Undaunted, Marc pushes back with one sword while driving the other into Kud’s belly. Kud screeches in agony but twists his sickle until its tip points at Marc’s chest.

  I want to tell Marc to stop. That he will get killed fighting Kud, an immortal. But I am in awe of Marc’s fighting skills. I had no idea he was so good.

  Marc shoves against Kud’s weapon and stabs another blow into Kud’s form. Again, Kud reacts in pain, hissing. There must be something magical about these swords. Somehow I stand, trying to think of what I can do to help.

  I clutch the
orb once again. The power of it rushes through me, almost overwhelming. My body tingles, and my ribs push back into place. At the same time, it’s too hot. Searing pain courses through my mind, and my head throbs so hard, I let the orb fall back against my chest so I can press my hands to the sides of my head.

  This must be what Samshin warned me about. Drawing too much power from the orb would eventually kill me. Without immortality, the orb is more than I can bear. But how do I make that choice to become immortal? She never explained that.

  Marc screams. Kud’s hounds have surrounded him, biting at his ankles, and he falters, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s beyond deathly pale, more like ghostly. I focus the orb’s power through me to shove the hounds away.

  With a desperate cry, Marc hurls the swords through the air. I watch as they spin toward me like shooting stars. I reach out for them, crying out from the pain in my ribs. Their magic sends them sliding into my hands. I swoop them before me in a side-cut, feeling the power of their blades.

  “Let him go,” I say.

  “With every treasure comes a cost,” Kud says. “He will die, and then your father will be next.”

  I charge at him, screaming at the top of my lungs. I twist both swords in the overhand, back-cut move. He lunges at me, but I parry with a twist of my wrist. His sickle suddenly erupts into a fiery blaze, and I’m startled enough that my movements falter. How do I defeat such a weapon?

  Darkness surrounds me, so that I see nothing other than Kud’s sickle streaking toward me and my own two swords blocking the cut. I spin and dive, breathless as I barely miss each blow that Kud hammers into me.

  I move just fast enough to cross-block a massive blow that sends me to my knees. The sickle presses down on me. I push my swords against it, groaning against his power. Something slides and curls around my ankles and up my legs once again. My stomach turns as I realize his tentacles are at work.

  A hound dives through the darkness and sinks its teeth into my shoulder. I cry out in pain as my left arm goes numb. One sword clatters to the ground, and I know I’m defenseless against Kud. For all my weapons, I am a mere mortal. I’m sure Kud will thrust his sickle through my heart, but he turns and looms over Marc. I watch in horror as the sickle bears down on Marc, perfectly aimed at his chest.