The Last Fallen Star

by Graci Kim

  The sanctuary goes so quiet I’m pretty sure the congregation can hear my heart thumping in my chest.

  Eomma takes a big breath and steps toward me. All the color has drained from her cheeks. “Riley, my aegi-ya…”

  Hattie squeezes my hand, but the muscles in my face freeze. Aegi-ya? Eomma only calls me baby when she’s about to deliver really bad news.

  “We’ll talk about this later, okay? This isn’t the time or place—”

  “No!” I interrupt. “Tell Auntie O she’s wrong.” It goes against everything I know about myself to make a scene, especially in front of the entire congregation. But this can’t wait. After all, how hard could it be to say the words You are not a Horangi?

  Eomma winces. She starts to talk, but it’s so quiet I have to lean in to hear her. “I’m so sorry, aegi-ya, but I’m afraid what your auntie says is true. Your birth parents were scholars from the Horangi clan. You’re not a saram. You’re just as gifted as the rest of us.”

  I guess she wasn’t as quiet as I thought she was, because another wave of appalled gasps ricochets through the congregation. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the other elders gathering and whispering conspiratorially to one another.

  “No, that’s not right,” I mutter. “I can’t be…It’s not possible!” My legs give out under me and I crumple to the ground. Hattie squats down to hold me, and I bury my head in her shoulder. This must be as much of a shock for her as it is for me.

  Eomma and Appa approach to pull me into their arms, too, but I cower away. Everything I have ever known about me, about my identity, about my heritage…it was all just a made-up story. And of all the clans to be a part of, why did it have to be that one? They are power-hungry heretics who were banished from our community. They were cursed to never wield the power of the goddesses again. They killed Emmett’s mom. Being a Horangi is a thousand million gazillion times worse than being a saram.

  “Were you ever going to tell me?” I dare to ask.

  Eomma drops her head into her hands, and Appa takes over, his voice all shaky. “We never meant to hurt you, Riley. We were just protecting you—”

  “Protecting me, or yourselves?” I blurt out. “Admit it. You were just ashamed of your cursed daughter and what people would say if they knew. That’s why you kept it from me.”

  “We could never be ashamed of you,” Appa assures me.

  “We love you more than anything,” Eomma says.

  “I wish I’d never been adopted!”

  A flash of pain marks their faces, and my chest momentarily wrenches. “I didn’t mean…” I trail off, feeling my face get damp. “But you lied to me. You knew how much I wanted to be gifted, and you made me believe I was a saram.” Just thinking about it makes the anger return to the surface. “Were Hattie and I the only ones who didn’t know?!”

  Eomma and Appa lower their eyes, and it’s obvious there’s something else they’re hiding. Auntie Okja glances nervously at the other elders, but then she exhales deeply and turns toward me. “It was me. I made them keep it a secret.”

  The elders narrow their eyes at her, and the congregation is now openly shaking their heads and muttering to one another. I suddenly realize Auntie Okja is going to be in a lot of trouble. And we’re going to be the talk of the community for years to come.

  “But why?” I whisper. “Why did I have to be a secret?”

  “The plain truth is this, Riley,” Auntie Okja says, her voice calm and soft. “When the Horangi staged that attack against the clans all those years ago, many innocent lives were lost. But the Horangi lost some of their own, too. Your parents were two of the scholars who died that day, and you…” She takes a deep breath. “You were still in your mother’s womb when she died. I was there, and I felt you fighting for life. So I saved you. And I brought you to Eunha and James.”

  Hattie gasps next to me, and I hold on to her tighter as the world blurs.

  “We knew you’d be banished with the rest of the clan if the council found out,” Appa explains. “And we knew the future for the Horangi was bleak and lonely at best. What wrong had you committed but be born to foolish parents? We had to do everything in our power to protect you.”

  Eomma wipes her eyes. “We couldn’t let anyone find out about you. So we decided to raise you as our own. And we have never looked back. Not once.”

  I don’t get the chance to digest what has just been explained to me. Before I can even stand up and get my bearings, Mr. Pyo, the Samjogo elder, has convened with his fellow elders and begins addressing the congregation.

  “All these confessions, as you can imagine, are a great shock to the council. Not only have these two children attempted to perform an illegal spell today, but also it is clear in our code of conduct, as stipulated by the Godrealm, that anyone seen colluding with the excommunicated clan must have their gifts stripped, too. Even if that someone is an elder.”

  Auntie Okja lowers her gaze, but my parents nudge her and the three adults cluster together with a mixture of pride and fear in their eyes.

  “We stand by our decision to protect and love our daughter,” Appa declares.

  Mr. Pyo ignores him and continues. “We will put the girls’ transgression aside and revisit it at a later date. As for these three adults, harboring a cursed fugitive—and for almost thirteen years, no less—is the very definition of colluding with the cursed clan.” A sea of approving murmurs comes from the Samjogo pews. “But my other council members are of the opinion that the crime here is not so black-and-white. We have therefore decided—albeit reluctantly on my part—to exercise a degree of mercy.”

  He turns to my auntie and my parents. “We will allow you to choose a punishment you feel is commensurate to your crime. If you continue to claim innocence, we will report your act to the Godrealm, and the full curse will be enacted against you. The three of you will henceforth be stripped of your powers.”

  Hattie and I look at each other, and my fear is mirrored as plain as day on my sister’s face.

  “On the other hand, if you wish to retain your powers and continue being part of this sacred community, you must do two things. One, admit your crime publicly. And, two, excommunicate Riley from the gifted clans as all Horangi should be, including cutting off all future contact. We will give you seven days to make a decision. This is the final ruling of the council.”

  Eomma faints on the spot, and Appa catches and holds her in his arms while Auntie Okja chants her back to consciousness. The congregation is on its feet, and Hattie is squeezing my hand so hard I can’t feel it anymore.

  Today was supposed to be the best day of our lives.

  Hattie was supposed to become an initiated witch, and I was supposed to become a healer alongside her. I was going to channel the power of the divine, and my sister and I were going to start our futures as healers together, side by side.

  Instead, I learned that I am cursed, and that I come from a line of heretics and murderers. My birth clan killed my best friend’s mother, and my adoptive parents will have to give up their divine callings if they want to keep me in the community.

  No matter what happens, I will never belong.

  As this realization dawns on me, I understand there is only one thing to do. Before I can change my mind, I turn and run, past Hattie, past my parents, past Auntie Okja, past the elders, and past the congregants who are now more than ever questioning my place in this society.

  With sharp grief puncturing my chest, I charge out of the room, stopping only for a second when Mr. Pyo grabs my arm with his bony hand.

  I shake him off and turn away. But not before I hear him whisper in my ear, “Don’t do anything foolish, cursed child. We will be watching you.”

  I RUN ALL THE WAY HOME. I run until my lungs feel like they’re going to explode, but it still doesn’t hurt as much as what just happened at Hattie’s ceremony. I was outed as a Horangi in front of the entire congregation, and now my parents have seven days to choose between me and their gifts. I can’t
let them make the worst decision of their lives.

  “Thank you for keeping the bugs out, door-sin,” I whisper, and it unlocks itself for me.

  I go straight to my room, and it’s like the house knows the decision I’ve made. The floors creak and the walls stretch and whine, as if they’re trying to stop me.

  “You’ve been an amazing home,” I say as I trace my fingers along the squirming wall. “But I can’t stay. I can’t let my parents sacrifice their divine calling for me. I just can’t.”

  The house groans as if it’s in pain, but I start putting clothes into my suitcase anyway. If I leave, my parents won’t need to make an impossible choice. I go to pack my onyx stone but realize it’s a reminder of my cursed heritage. I shove it into my bedside drawer instead.

  Mong runs into my room and jumps into the open suitcase, still in his Haetae outfit. His eyes are round and watery as if he knows exactly what I’m planning, too.

  “I’m gonna miss you, boy.” I sigh. “Even your stinky breath.”

  “You don’t have to miss him. Because you aren’t going anywhere.”

  I swivel around to see Hattie standing at the door, with Emmett at her side. He’s carrying a Tupperware container of freshly baked cookies. I can smell their warm yumminess from across the room.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I demand, wiping my damp eyes. “I’d like to be alone.”

  “I ran after you and stopped to get Emmett. I told Eomma and Appa that I’d try talking to you. This is not the time for you to be by yourself.”

  Emmett walks over and upends my suitcase, dumping all my clothes on the floor. “This is what we think of your plan, by the way.”

  “Yeah, it stinks, Rye,” Hattie agrees.

  “Since when have you been one to run away from your problems?” Emmett asks. “You know that’s more my jam.”

  I put my hands on my hips, feeling my face get hot. “Do you think I want to run away? But what choice do I have? I can’t stay and let Eomma and Appa lose everything they’ve ever worked for. What kind of daughter would I be?”

  Emmett closes the empty suitcase and sits on top of it. “On the way over here, Hattie filled me in on what happened.”

  I immediately shoot Hattie a look. Surely she didn’t tell him I’m a Horangi. She wouldn’t have!

  “I told him,” Hattie quickly says, “about how, after our spell failed, Eomma and Appa created a huge scene, demanding you be allowed to initiate into the clan. And when they wouldn’t let up, the elders charged them with contempt of the code of conduct. As punishment, they have been given seven days to choose between disowning you or losing their gifts.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. Emmett doesn’t know. He still thinks I’m a saram.

  Emmett shakes his head. “What did I tell you? Magic is bad news. If you hadn’t tried to do that spell today, none of this would have happened. That goes for you, too, Hattie—you’re an enabler.”

  He gives Hattie the side eye, and she looks sheepish. I lower my own eyes, mostly because I’m scared he’ll be able to read in them what really occurred. But also because he’s right. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t agreed to do the spell. I mumble some random sounds just to fill the silence.

  “But you didn’t listen to me, and now look at you.” He scowls. “It’s pathetic seeing you like this, packing your bags and running away from parents who love you. You do realize some people don’t have moms to run away from?”

  That hits me like a punch in the chest. “You’re right, Em.”

  “I know I am.”

  “I’m sorry…” I murmur.

  “I know you are.” He sighs and passes me a salted-caramel cookie. My favorite. “But it’s happened now, so the only thing we can do is stay focused on the future and find a solution. And luckily for you, your best friend is a genius.”

  Hattie nods. “I have to agree with Emmett. His idea is genius.”

  I finally look up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Hattie says the only reason the council can charge your parents for being in contempt is because you’re a saram. So what if there was a way we could turn you into something else? What if we could literally turn you into a Gom—not with some temporary spell, but permanently, from the inside out? Then the basis for your parents’ crime would disappear.”

  My heart drops. “No offense, Em, but if that were possible, wouldn’t Eomma and Appa have done it to me years ago?”

  Emmett takes a seat next to me on the bed. “I was thinking about it the other day. Remember that story you told me about how the Cave Bear Goddess came to be?”

  I nod. Before becoming divine, our patron goddess was a mortal bear who wanted more than anything to be reborn in Mago Halmi’s image. She prayed to Mago Halmi for her wish to be heard, and the mother of all creation entrusted her with a challenge. If the bear could survive a hundred days in a dark cave with only a bundle of mugwort and garlic to eat, her wish would be granted. The story goes that our bear ancestor was so devoted that, on the twenty-first day, Mago Halmi turned her into a beautiful goddess. That’s how she became the patron of service and sacrifice.

  “So,” Emmett concludes, “why don’t you do the same?”

  “Wait, you want me to sit in a cave and eat mugwort and garlic?” I ask, genuinely perplexed.

  He groans. “No, you dummy. I’m saying you should pray to Mago Halmi and see if she’ll grant you your wish to become a Gom. I may not approve of magic, but I don’t deny it exists. If Mago Halmi did it for the bear, maybe she’ll do it for you, too.”

  “Even better than that,” Hattie says, with a spark in her eye, “we don’t just pray—we summon her.”

  “Whoa!” Emmett stares at Hattie. “Trust you to always take it a step too far.”

  I snort. “Em’s right. You can’t summon the mother of all creation. That’s impossible.”

  “It is possible. There’s a specific summoning spell. Noah told me about it.” Hattie does this weird face twitch I’ve never seen before. “It’s prohibited magic, so, technically, we need council approval before casting it, but desperate times, right?” She shrugs. “Anyway, Noah said the Miru protect one of the things needed for the spell. They keep it at his dad’s Taegwondo dojang.”

  “Just because Noah said it’s true doesn’t mean it’s true,” I point out.

  Emmett coughs. “Also, you just said yourself, it’s illegal. Haven’t we all learned our lesson about breaking laws today?”

  Hattie doesn’t say anything, so I continue. “Emmett has a point. Besides, people say things all the time without meaning them. Noah seems nice and all, but how do we know he’s trustworthy?”

  “Noah wouldn’t lie to me, okay?” Hattie snaps.

  I clamp my mouth shut. What was that about?

  “Holy shirtballs!” Emmett bursts out. “Hattie Oh, do you have a crush on this guy?”

  Her face turns as red as a monkey’s butt, and suddenly the weird vibe between Hattie, Cosette, and Noah at Saturday School makes sense. Emmett’s nunchi (basically, his ability to pick up what’s going on without being told) is seriously next-level.

  “Wait, the same Noah Noh who wears hipster glasses and has hipster hair?” I ask. “Oh my Mago, you totally have a crush on him!”

  “What? No, I don’t.” Her voice is so high-pitched it sounds like Alvin the Chipmunk.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do!”

  “No, I don’t!”

  I crack up and slap my thigh so hard it stings. “You know what this means, right?”

  Hattie frowns. “No, what?”

  “If you guys get married and hyphenate your last names, you’ll be Hattie Oh-Noh.”

  Hattie groans loudly, but Emmett cackles like a hyena, and even Mong seems to appreciate my comedic genius. He runs in circles a few times trying to chase his tail.

  “Oh-Noh. Oh no! Get it?” I curl over myself and almost wet my pants. “It’s t
oo good. Just too, too good.”

  Hattie crosses her arms and harrumphs, but I see the ends of her lips curl upward eventually. “I realize it’s at my expense, but it’s nice to know you still have a few laughs in you. Especially when so much has gone wrong today.”

  The reminder of today’s events sobers me up. My eyes glance down at the mess of clothes strewn across the floor. Summoning the mother of all creation and asking for a wish is a radical plan, if ever there was one. But it’s got to be better than running away from home. I’m not even thirteen, I don’t have any money, and I don’t have anywhere to go. At least this way I have a minuscule chance of saving my parents’ gifts and remaining a part of this family.

  I turn to my sister. “Okay, let’s do it. I mean, at this point, what have we got to lose?”

  “Uh…” Emmett raises his eyebrows and gives Mong an exasperated look. “Am I the only one with an amygdala in this room, boy?” Mong barks and wags his tail.

  Hattie ignores Emmett’s nerdy comment and smiles at me. “Good, we’ve got this! I’ll text Noah and let him know we’re coming. Also, the adults are gonna be home any minute, so we need to get out of here fast. They’d never let us try this. We can leave them a note so they don’t worry.”

  She grabs a pen and paper from my bedside cabinet. “Dear Eomma and Appa,” she says aloud as she writes. “We’re sorry about the gift-sharing spell today. We didn’t mean to get you in trouble with the council. But don’t worry, we have a plan, and we’re going to fix everything. We’ll be back as soon as we can. (And no, we haven’t run away or anything, so please don’t call the police.) Lots of love, Hattie and Riley. P.S. We borrowed the money from the swear jar, just in case. Sorry!” She picks up the paper and scans it. “There. That should do the trick.”

  I take the note from her and add the words really, reaaally between We’re and sorry. Because I really am that sorry. Although I’m still a teensy bit mad at them for lying to me for all these years. Maybe they deserve to stew for a little while….