by Graci Kim
The man narrows his eyes as he takes me in. “I’m the one who should be asking you that question.”
I look for Emmett again, but he’s nowhere to be seen. The image of him falling to the ground like a rag doll plays back in my mind, and panic rises in my throat. “Where’s…Where’s my friend? What have you done to him?”
“He is unhurt. But I will not release him or you until you answer my question. You must be well aware that the gifted library is prohibited, and yet you ignored the rules and broke in. How did you get through security? And what reason do you have for this indiscretion?”
My heart is racing and, though I don’t want the council to put another X next to my name, I don’t respond. No way am I going to rat out the cheollima. It would be too hard to explain everything anyway, and I don’t trust this man’s word that Emmett is unhurt. The guy gassed us, for crying out loud.
The man frowns and continues. “For over ten years the sacred texts have been inaccessible without the Horangi. And yet somehow you were able to activate the library.” He holds up the copy of The Loyal Tales of the Haetae we’d found. “Are you working with the cursed clan?”
“No,” I quickly say, wincing at the allegation. “I’m not working with them. I was just—”
A glint of glass in his other hand catches my eye and the blood drains from my face. I grab at my neck—no cord necklace. “Hey, that’s mine—give it back!”
He opens his palm to reveal the vial containing Hattie’s bloody shrunken heart. “Tell me what this is.”
A sudden feeling of desperation washes over me. Emmett once told me that baking is the art of balance and restraint. Unlike cooking, baking is an exact science that requires the perfect mix of ingredients. If you use too little baking soda, your cake won’t rise. But add too much and you get a bitter, inedible result. The key is to always stay in control—never let the ingredients get out of balance.
Now I realize what he meant. I’ve always been a cautious person, never one to attract attention to myself or stick my nose where it’s not wanted. I knew my place, even if things weren’t fair. It was only after we found out about the gift-sharing spell that the balance started tipping. I started wanting more. Needing more.
Even when that spell went wrong, I told myself it was okay, because we had a plan. And then, when the summoning spell went wrong too, I told myself there was still hope, because we had a way of saving Hattie. But now, with my parents’ gifts at risk, Emmett’s life in danger, and Hattie’s heart dangling in a stranger’s hand, I realize I have lost all control. I let the imbalance of ingredients get the best of me. And I wonder if this is how the Horangi started on their path to self-destruction. By being too greedy, and losing the things most dear to them as a result.
I really am cursed like them.
“I will not ask you again,” the man threatens, dangling the glass vial by the black cord. “Tell me what this is.”
I grit my teeth. I have done my loved ones enough harm. It’s time to take control, even if it scares the Mago out of me. I have to do whatever it takes.
The task in front of me is clear. Tackle the man, grab Hattie’s heart, find Emmett, and get out of here. And do it pronto. As adrenaline burns through my body, I let out a Xena-esque battle cry and spring up, lunging headfirst at the man.
“Ow!” My head bonks into something cold and hard, and I fall back onto my butt with a heavy thud.
The man stands unfazed.
I look around me, confused. There’s nothing to be seen in the air, and yet I could have sworn my head hit something solid. I tentatively raise my hand, only for my fingers to feel long vertical bars in front of my face. I frantically follow the invisible beams and find they surround me on all four sides and a few feet above me, too. I’m boxed in.
“Why have you trapped me in here? Magically imprisoning a minor without parental consent is against the gifted council’s code of conduct,” I warn, pushing through the quiver in my voice. “If you don’t let me go this instant and tell me where you’re holding my friend, I will report you—and I’ll have you know, my auntie is an elder on the council!” I really wish I could stand up to make these threats.
The man cocks his head slightly as he studies me. Then one side of his mouth quirks upward.
“You think this is funny?” I spit out the words, feeling my emotions unravel like a ball of yarn. “This is a matter of life and death! That heart you’re holding belongs to my sister, and if I don’t find what I’ve promised to find, I will lose her forever. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
A weird heat flares in my gut. And for a moment, I feel like I’ve caught on fire. As if my four elemental fires have been switched on. “I’m not messing around, Mr. Fancy Suit. I’m going to ask you one last time. Release me, and tell me where you’re holding my friend, or else!”
Something changes in the man’s face. His features soften, and he looks at me with an expression that seems kind of like recognition, or maybe even…respect. As the heart vial hangs down from his fingers, he opens the copy of The Loyal Tales of the Haetae.
“Have you read the story about how the Haetae came to wield time-manipulation powers?”
I stare at him in disbelief. Does he really think this is the time to be making small talk?
He continues. “The Haetae once helped the six goddesses commit a crime. He then became so guilt-ridden that he condemned himself to relive his mistake over and over again, because he believed that was the punishment he deserved. Although he was never able to rewrite history, his return to the past granted him the ability to manipulate time. And with his new power, he was able to help many people in need.” He strokes his beard and looks me right in the eye. “To find that which you seek, you must also turn back your clock. You must return to the very beginning—to where you first started. Because, like a coin, there are always two sides to every story. Without the two sides, it cannot be whole.”
I scowl like I’ve never scowled before. “I didn’t ask for a lecture,” I start, channeling my inner Boss Hattie. “I asked you to let me go!”
He nods simply. “As you wish.”
The bearded man carefully places Hattie’s heart vial on the floor between his feet. Then he removes a marble from his pants pocket and throws it down in front of me. He starts chanting, and clouds of blue and purple smoke start rising from the ground.
I cover my face. Ugh, I will not be knocked unconscious twice.
I hold my breath for as long as I can, and when I feel myself getting light-headed, I sneak a peek between my fingers. The man is gone. And with him, the strange fog.
I take the opportunity to reach for Hattie’s heart, still on the ground in front of me. Thank Mago, the invisible bars are gone. I grab the vial with a triumphant grunt, only to break into a frown. The glass feels colder to the touch now. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it, but I think the heart is pumping slower than it was before, too.
I pick myself up and loop the black cord over my head. This isn’t good. We need to move faster. “Emmett! Where are you?”
I turn toward the elevator, prepared to search every floor of this temple if that’s what it’ll take to find my best friend. But as I’m moving, I see something out of the corner of my eye. I swivel around to find Emmett’s body curled up on the floor next to the detergent vending machine. Boris is there too, folded neatly next to him.
“Em!” I scream, and I run over and fall to my knees. His chest is moving up and down, and it doesn’t look like he’s bleeding or has broken any bones. But he remains unconscious. “Wake up, Em. Get up!”
His face is pale, his lips blue. He looks so little lying there, and suddenly I flash back to when we were in elementary school.
Emmett was way smaller than the other boys, and he got teased a lot for it. When we had parent visiting days, he would pretend his absent mom was a wildlife photographer on assignment in Africa, and kids would write LIAR on his locker. The worse the bullying got, the more he raised wall
s around himself and retreated within them. Sometimes I think he likes the fact that his dad is so strict. It’s easier to lay low when there are rules to hide behind.
But he was different with me. One time in third grade, I was in the library, eating lunch by myself. Jennie Byun had told me I couldn’t come to her birthday party—it was for “real” gifted kids only—and as usual, I’d burst into tears and run away. I was sitting in the corner, trying to hide my red face behind a book, when someone dropped a Ziploc bag of chocolate-chip cookies into my lap. I looked up to see Emmett quietly taking a seat next to me. He didn’t say a word that first day—I don’t think he even looked at me—but from then on, we ate lunch together every noon, like it was an unspoken rule. He was always there for me, making sure I never felt alone.
Not much has changed since then. When everything went pear-shaped after Hattie’s ceremony, Emmett stepped up without hesitation. He put his own beliefs about magic and the gifted community aside to help me get what I wanted. He put himself in danger for me. Because that’s the type of friend he is.
Before I even know what’s happening, tears are running freely down my cheeks and dripping onto Emmett’s face. I dragged him into this mess. I am a horrible best friend.
“Seriously, what is with you and your leaky-bladder eyeballs? Repeat after me—emotions are bad for your health.” Emmett rubs his eyes and tries to sit up. “Holy shirtballs, did you sit on my head with your big butt? My brain feels like it’s about to explode.”
“You’re alive!” I hug him and kiss him and rub my happy snot all over him.
“Ew! You’re disgusting, Rye. Get off me!”
I wipe my nose with the bottom of my sweater and give Emmett a big, toothy grin. My BFF is back, and I couldn’t be happier.
“Wait, how did we end up in the laundromat again?” he asks. “What happened?”
I help him to his feet. “I’ll explain everything later, but first, we need to get out of here,” I say. “The bearded man might come back for us.”
“The bearded man? Who’s he?” Emmett mumbles. “And where are we gonna go next?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But for now, I need to get you to safety, and it’s not safe in here. So stop asking questions and move your butt. Let’s go!”
He raises his eyebrows at me, surprised by my new assertive vibe. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he picks up Boris—with only a slight shudder—and rises to his feet. “Lead the way, boss.”
We run to the elevators, only to find that they’re out of order.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I cry.
Emmett points to the fire exit to our right. “I guess we’re walking.”
We hurry to the door, and Emmett pushes on the bar. “Ugh, it’s jammed!”
I join in, and we ram the door over and over until it starts opening, inch by inch.
“Again,” Emmett says, breathing heavily. “Push together in one, two, three!”
As we fight with the door, there is a low and deep growl behind us. I freeze in my tracks. “Did you hear that?”
Emmett continues pushing as if he hasn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. But the hairs on my arms stand tall as the rumble sounds again. “Em,” I whisper. “Can’t you hear that?”
I wrap my hand around Hattie’s heart vial and turn slowly. My eyes land on a creature that is at once familiar and unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
He’s the size of an elephant, but he kind of looks like a mastiff. Well, except for the iridescent scales all over him, the lion’s mane, the single blunt horn, and the red eyes that shine like rubies. His back twitches as he takes a step toward me, and his scales glisten as though they’re wet. A bell tinkles on his collar. And when his nostrils flare, I can’t help but pee a little. “Em, turn around!”
He looks over his shoulder and I wait for his jaw to drop. Instead, his eyebrows furrow. “Why are you just standing there like a dodo? This door isn’t going to open itself. Come on, help me push.” He turns back to the door and gives it another thrust.
I blink and rub my eyes, expecting the apparition to have disappeared. But as certain as the hairs on my arms, the Haetae—the real Haetae—is still standing in front of me. Had our finding his book in the library somehow called upon him to appear in the flesh?
I know I should be very careful. His teeth are sharp enough to bite the sun and the moon, after all. But in that moment, I stop thinking altogether. Instead, I reach out to touch him.
The Haetae sniffs my hand, and just when I think I’ve made a big mistake, he leans in to nuzzle his cheek against my palm. His scales are warm and hard and smooth, like heated marble. I exhale slowly, trying not to freak out. I just touched Mago Halmi’s guardian pet!
He growls again, but this time it sounds more like a deep purr, and he lifts his head in pleasure, revealing the brass bell tied around his neck. In its shiny surface a scene appears, like on a miniature TV screen.
I peer closer.
At first the image is cloudy and hard to make out, but as the fog clears, I see a group of people dressed in red hanboks gathered protectively around a glowing ax. A number of unmoving bodies lie sprawled on the ground. A woman stands apart from them, chanting incantations, until the ax leaps into the air and flies into her hand. I squint and study the woman’s face. She seems so familiar….
I look over my shoulder at Emmett, glance down at his silver ring, and turn back to the vision in the bell. Yes. I’ve seen pictures of her, at Emmett’s house and at Auntie Okja’s. It’s definitely her. Emmett’s mom.
Before I can react, the scene changes. Now Emmett’s mom is lying on the ground, still and unmoving. A tall black-haired man with angular features looms above her with a dark expression on his face. I don’t know who he is, but I notice something in his hand. It looks like…like my onyx teardrop stone. I cover my mouth with my hand. It can’t be….
The vision flickers again. And this time, it shows Emmett and me. We’re at the zoo, standing in front of the tiger enclosure. We’re drinking what looks like…boba tea?
“What in the name of Mago—?”
But I don’t get to say more. Emmett grabs my wrist just as the fire-exit door swings wide, and he pulls me into the stairwell. He drags me up the stairs, and in a rush, we burst into the temple lobby. We run through the secret portal, emerge from the walk-in fridge, and hurry past the surprised man at the Korean fried chicken counter. Finally, we find ourselves back on a busy street in the heart of Koreatown. While catching our breath, we look up at the H-Mart.
“I can’t believe we made it out of there without being caught,” I say, my chest heaving.
Emmett lets go of my wrist. But instead of answering, he just stares at me. And there’s a strange look in his eyes.
“What?” I say.
He points to my chest.
For a second, I panic. Did I lose Hattie’s heart again?
My hands search around my neck for the second time today, and I’m relieved to find the vial still hanging from its cord. I grasp it and look down at my sister’s tiny heart, only to see why Emmett is wearing a horrified expression.
A corner of the heart has started to blacken, slowly shriveling like a dying flower inside its glass prison. Now I know I’m not imagining it. Hattie’s heart is changing. It’s not as alive as it was before.
My breath catches in my throat as I look up at my partner in crime. “Em, we need to hurry. Hattie’s running out of time.”
“WHAT DO WE DO NOW, RYE?” Emmett asks, massaging his temples. “We’re fresh out of clues and Hattie’s heart is…you know…”
“Actually,” I start, choosing my words cautiously, “we do have a new lead.”
“We do?”
“When you were unconscious, a bearded man came to speak to me.”
His eyes widen. “Was he the one who gassed us? What did he want?”
“He said that in order to find what I seek, I need to return to the very beginning. To w
here I first started.”
He facepalms. “Another riddle? Ugh, I’m sick of puzzles.”
“And right before we left, I saw the Haetae. The real one.”
“The Haetae?” He shakes his head. “I don’t even know what you’re saying anymore. I thought things were cray-cray enough when the goddess turned up with her ladle. But then came the little horse dude with an inferiority complex, and the pecking bird–books, and now a uni-horned lion beast? I mean, I knew magic was real, but all this is literally breaking my brain.”
I put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s a lot, I know. But stay with me. Because the Haetae showed me some visions, and I think they could be our next clue.”
I lead him over to a nearby bench. “Let’s sit a minute. You can check to make sure Boris is okay while I gather my thoughts.”
I have to be careful about how much to share with Emmett. The first scene I saw in the Haetae’s bell floods my mind. The Horangi clan were standing protectively over a glowing ax, and Emmett’s mom spelled it away from them. That had to be the seventh artifact—the sunstone ax.
The Cave Bear Goddess had told us that the fallen star would grant divine power. I also remember Auntie Okja telling me that the Horangi had figured out a way for witches to become as powerful as the goddesses. And when the other five clans tried to stop them, the scholars attacked. They’d left a path of destruction and despair, just as the Cave Bear Goddess had said.
These things could not be a coincidence. Maybe all the artifacts were fallen stars…which means that, if the letter is correct, she wants us to find the eighth, and seemingly last, one—whatever and wherever it might be.
Then I think of the second scene in the Haetae’s bell, in which a man with an onyx teardrop stone just like mine stood above Mrs. Harrison’s dead body. A man with angular features…just like mine. Emmett’s mom must have been killed for trying to keep the seventh artifact out of the Horangi’s clutches. By my biological appa, no less.
There’s no way I can reveal my true identity to Emmett now. But the lies are stacking up like pancakes, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.