The Last Fallen Star

by Graci Kim

  “I don’t know about employee of the month,” I say modestly, “but I have found the Godrealm’s last fallen star, just as you asked.”

  She doesn’t hide her delight. Her skin glows a bright hue of solar yellow. “Well, well, my dear, you are a treasure indeed. Maybe even in the running for employee of the century! Go on—show me what you’ve found.”

  I hesitate, holding the star compass behind my back. I could reveal it to her first and then demand Hattie back, but my recent experience with the dokkaebi has made me wary—and weary. I look around at my Gom family, my Horangi family, and my best friend, all of whom have been through enough already.

  No, this is not the time to show goodwill. I need to be smart about this.

  “Come on, Goddess!” I say, hitting her jovially on the arm. “You said so yourself—I’m best-employee material. How about you bring my sister back first? Then I’ll give you the star.” I slip the compass into my back pocket and hold out Hattie’s heart vial.

  The goddess laughs heartily. “Oh my, looks like you’ve picked up some bargaining skills on the job!” Her eyes start twinkling. “And what if I don’t? If I refuse to bring her back first, are you prepared to give up the compensation I promised you? I thought you wanted to be reborn in my image—as a Gom and a healer?”

  She’s testing me, but I’m not going to give in. Because if I’ve learned anything over the last few days, it’s that healing magic isn’t what makes me a true Gom. No, it’s my willingness to sacrifice myself for my loved ones. It’s my desire to serve those I care about.

  Instead, I play her game. “Oh, Goddess, you’re so funny!” I laugh so convincingly, I should get nominated for an Oscar. “You’re the benevolent patron goddess of service and sacrifice. You would never go back on a promise! Besides, as I believe you once told me, compensation for a divine job completed is stipulated by Godrealm law.” I wink at her. “You wouldn’t break the law, would you?”

  I’m not sure where I’m getting the courage to sass a divine being this way, but, if I’m being honest, I kind of like this new me. It has taken me a little while, but it feels good to speak out and trust in my abilities. It feels right. Hattie would be proud.

  The goddess grins and slaps me on the back. “Well put, my dear! I’d better start wriggling, then. I don’t want those holy lawyers knocking on my door—they’re a divine pain in the backside!” She rolls up her sleeves and rubs her hands together. “Let’s bring your sister back, shall we?”

  As the last muscle of red organ tissue in the vial shrivels into black rot, the goddess plucks something out of the air. It shines like a nugget of gold between her fingers, and she places it carefully on the ground near the Gi cauldron.

  The next time I blink, I see a body wearing a long golden hanbok lying on the floor.

  My heart soars like an inmyeonjo.

  It’s my sister.

  It’s Hattie.

  “HATTIE!” I CRY.

  “Hattie-ya!” my parents shout.

  Eomma, Appa, and I run to the body that has materialized out of nowhere onto the floor of the Gi sanctuary.

  I fall to my knees, burying my face in my sister’s chest. My parents shed tears of joy and relief, and the feeling is overwhelming, seeing her in the flesh again. It’s only been a few days, but it feels like years since I’ve seen my boss sister. She got so skinny in the Godrealm. Her arms are barely thicker than sticks, and her face is sunken and painted a sickly shade of gray. So much for “safekeeping,” like the goddess had promised. Hattie looks barely alive.

  Her eyes flick open like two headlights.

  “You’re awake!” I cry out. “I’ve missed you so much, Hat. I can’t believe you’re back. You’re really back!”

  Except something feels off.

  The light in my sister’s eyes is gone. There’s no Hattie in those eyes. But if Eomma has noticed, she’s not showing it. She hugs Hattie’s limp body to her own, crying into my sister’s bony shoulder.

  “Eomma…” I warn.

  My hand grasps the cold vial still around my neck, and my eyes flit from Hattie’s body up to the goddess. “Something’s not right!”

  The goddess raises an eyebrow. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

  “What do you mean, interesting?”

  Hattie twists unnaturally in Eomma’s arms, as if her body is being controlled by a puppeteer. Her eyes lock like a hawk’s on Emmett, and her arms stretch toward him.

  “My son,” she croaks, her voice sounding dusty and hoarse. “My son, my son, my son.”

  All color drains from Emmett’s face, and he stares at my sister with frightened eyes. “Mom…?” He starts walking toward Hattie, his mouth hanging wide with disbelief.

  “No…” Auntie Okja murmurs. “It can’t be.”

  “Where is my sister?!” I demand of the goddess, dropping my cheerful act. “You promised her safe return!”

  “Gone,” she answers simply. “The young witch’s heart perished, and it seems an opportunistic gwisin has possessed her body. What a shame.” Something changes in the goddess’s face. It’s like her features are shedding their kindliness.

  I clutch at my chest. “No, that’s not possible.” I think of what Jennie’s halmeoni gwisin said—that Emmett’s mom had become a vengeful gwisin stuck on Earth, too overcome by the wrongs done to her in life. She was no longer the woman she used to be, and she wasn’t willing to talk to Emmett. Then what is she doing here now?

  Emmett kneels down in front of Hattie. His whole body is trembling. “Mom, is that really you?”

  Hattie’s eyes blink once, and then, in a blur, everything changes. She is no longer limp on the ground, cradled in my eomma’s arms. She now stands, her body in an unnatural position, like that of a marionette, her arms outstretched. She walks rigidly toward the goddess.

  “You!” she shrieks, pointing at the goddess’s face. “You did this. You used me. You made me steal the artifact, and then you made me kill all those innocent people. I was wronged!”

  The goddess shrugs her off. “Tsk-tsk, you insolent gwisin. You have the audacity to return from the dead to accuse me of such a petty crime? Don’t you know who I am?” She turns to me and shakes her head. “Can you believe the gall of this ghost? Or should I say, the ghoul of this ghost?” She chuckles and winks at me.

  I realize with a jolt that the goddess still thinks I’m on her side.

  Emmett hasn’t taken his eyes off Sookhee/Hattie, and now he nears her again, fidgeting with his silver ring. “Mom, what happened to you? You didn’t want to talk to me before. How come you’re here now?”

  Sookhee turns around stiffly and focuses on Emmett’s face. Her sunken eyes are still midnight black, but now they shed fat tears. “Oh, my sweet, sweet boy. I was lost in my anger for so many years. But when I found out you were searching for me, I fought the fog with all my might. And when it cleared, I remembered everything. I remembered what it was all for. You helped me find my way back to you.”

  I nervously glance over at the goddess, but she isn’t even listening. She has wandered over to the Gi cauldron and is running her finger along the lip of its mouth. She’s whistling the tune to “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” while casually looking around as if she’s sightseeing. I blink twice. Is it my imagination, or is the goddess getting taller…?

  Sookhee takes a jerky step toward Emmett. As she talks, her movements become smoother and more natural, as if she’s growing more solid and real with each word. “My deepest desire was for you to be loved and embraced by my community. The goddess promised to give you magic if I let her borrow my body. But it was never her intention to help me. She just wanted the artifact for herself. She possessed me and made me do terrible, terrible things.” Sookhee weeps, and it looks like a dam has broken inside her. And it’s no wonder. Thirteen years’ worth of pent-up emotion has been released, and she is finally getting the chance to clear her name.

  It all makes sense now. The bearded man told me there were always tw
o sides to every story, and he was right. I did see Sookhee take the sunstone ax from the Horangi in the vision in the Haetae’s bell. But it wasn’t her. It was the Cave Bear Goddess. She’d been behind everything the whole time.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, my baby,” Sookhee sobs. “But please know that everything I did, I did for you. I love you more than you could ever know. And I am so proud of how you’ve turned out, my son.”

  Something cracks in Emmett and he pulls Sookhee into a tight hug. “You came back from the dead to find me,” he whispers. “I love you, too, Mom. Saranghaeyo.” He openly weeps into her shoulder, and my own leaky-bladder eyeballs do what they do best.

  Now I realize that tears are nothing to be ashamed of. I’d always considered them a flaw—something that made me weak. But now I see that they are a part of who I am—a part of who we all are. They come because we care. It’s a way of saying I love you.

  As Emmett, too, embraces his emotions in a way he’s never done before, Hattie’s body glows bright from every pore. Then, as she crumples and falls softly to the floor, the light pulls away, like skin being shed by a snake. The glow re-forms into the shape of a leopard standing next to Hattie’s body, and it shimmers like a holograph.

  “Mom?” Emmett stares at the cat with wide eyes.

  The leopard pushes her snout into Emmett’s hand. “Now I can finally leave in peace,” she whispers. “Never forget, my son—you were made in love, and you will live a life full of love. Don’t be scared of letting it in. You are worthy of it all. Good-bye.”

  And just as Jennie’s halmeoni gwisin did, Sookhee’s soul animal disappears in a burst of warm light. Emmett wipes his eyes. And for the first time since I met him, he looks completely at peace. His perpetual pout has been erased, and it’s as if the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders. “Good-bye, Mom,” he whispers.

  Eomma, Appa, and I run to Hattie once more, to cradle her lifeless body in our arms. And, with an aching heart, I face the truth. Hattie—the real Hattie—is gone.

  “Hattie,” I breathe into her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you.” The words seem meaningless as I gaze at her still face. A deep pain erupts in my chest, and I clutch at it. My rib cage feels empty. There’s a Hattie-shaped hole inside, and I’m never going to be able to fill it.

  The goddess returns from her sightseeing trip to the Gi sanctuary and puts her hands on her (slimmer?) hips. “All right, subjects, that’s enough with the sob stories. I believe I’ve been more than generous with my patience, not to mention allowing that poor excuse for a soul to spout off such nonsense.” She turns to me with sparkling eyes. “Time to talk shop. Be a good dearie and hand over the Godrealm’s last fallen star, won’t you?”

  Bubbles of frustration rise to the surface of my skin. How can she be so nonchalant when she’s brought pain to so many lives? How can she claim to be the patron goddess of service and sacrifice when all she does is create more suffering? She’s nothing but a con artist!

  “This is all your fault!” I scream at the top of my lungs. “You didn’t even bring my sister back. Why should I give you the last fallen star?”

  Her eyebrows arch as she digests my outburst. Then she purses her lips. “I wouldn’t push my luck, dearie. You may have been a model employee so far, but my tolerance is not a bottomless cup.”

  As I look down at my poor parents, my grief explodes into a ball of fury. The goddess was supposed to be benevolent and good—an example of what mortals should aspire to become. But instead, she is the definition of selfish. She acted with complete disregard for mortal life just so she could erase her crime.

  I dig my feet into the ground and stare into the goddess’s eyes. “Will you ever stop?!” I cry, my hands clenching into fists. “Will access to the three realms be enough? When will you stop treating us mortals like we’re disposable? Can’t you see our lives are worth something?”

  The goddess sighs deeply. “Oh, how you disappoint me, mortal child. I thought we had something special between us, but here you are, throwing it all away.” She closes her eyes for a moment, and her body starts to glow. It looks like LED bulbs have been switched on under her skin.

  “There’s one thing you have to understand.” She advances toward me, her frame elongating, her once soft face hardening. With each step her dowdy clothes are gradually being replaced by a flowing gold gown. “You cannot compare your lives to ours. My sisters and I are Mago Halmi’s divine children. If mortals must perish to suit our needs, then so be it. It is the law of nature.”

  That’s all the fuel I need to stoke my fire. If she doesn’t respect mortal lives, then she has no right to roam our realm.

  “Auntie O!” I scream, releasing the metal rays of the compass behind my back. “Do it now!”

  Auntie Okja might not know who I am anymore, but she still knows the plan. At my command, she rubs her wrists together and starts chanting the threading spell. Before our eyes, tiny silver ropes start appearing between my auntie and the goddess. They look like spiderwebs touched by morning dew, glistening under the lights of the sanctuary.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the goddess asks, looking between herself and Auntie Okja.

  “You are the patron goddess of service and sacrifice,” I start. “Yet the only one you serve is yourself. You don’t deserve the Gom. You don’t deserve this realm. You want the Godrealm’s last fallen star? Well, here it is. Let us show you what we mortals are truly capable of!”

  And with that, I run toward the threads with the star compass in hand. I run with all my might, and with Hattie in my heart. I channel all my anger and grief into my arms, and I slash at the threads with both hands. I attack them with everything in my being, desperate to sever the link between the goddess and the Gom clan.

  The goddess watches me with surprise, momentarily stunned into silence. Then she looks at the compass and cackles. “Stupid mortal child, that is not the Godrealm’s last fallen star. How dare you test the patience of divinity?”

  “But it…it…it has to be!” I stop slashing and look at the threads between my auntie and the goddess. I expect to see them cut and drooping like wilting flowers. But they’re still connected, firm and taut, as intact as they were when they first appeared.

  “I don’t understand,” Auntie Okja breathes.

  “It should have worked,” I murmur.

  I turn the compass over in my hand. The dokkaebi had said I was in possession of the fallen star, and the compass is the only thing I have on me. And the prophecy confirmed the weapon is made of gold. The compass has to be the last fallen star.

  If it isn’t, then where in the world is the real artifact?

  The goddess locks her eyes on me, and her glowing skin starts radiating an angry orange. “You don’t complete your job, and then you try to attack me. What utter insubordination! You want to know how we’re different, you and I?” She sneers and all traces of the kind, frumpy woman disappear. “I follow through with my threats. You will feel my wrath, child. This I promise you.”

  Emmett runs in between me and the goddess. “You’re full of it!” he screams. “You’re powerless here without a willing host to use. You’re nothing but an empty shell. That’s why you had to possess my mom’s body!”

  The goddess smiles and reaches out for the threads. “Indeed. Which is why I’m lucky to have one connected already.” She reels it in like a fishing line, and her catch is none other than my auntie.

  “Help!” Auntie Okja calls out, realizing what is about to happen.

  I run and grab her from behind, trying to hold her back. Eomma and Appa then wrap their arms around my waist, soon followed by Emmett, Taeyo, Sora, and Austin. We all pull on Auntie Okja with our collective weight, trying to prevent her from moving an inch closer.

  But we’re no match for a divine being. The Cave Bear Goddess wins this tug-of-war, and as Auntie Okja screams for her life, the deity reaches out and puts her hand on my auntie’s head.


  There is a sound like crashing cymbals. Auntie Okja’s body convulses and floats in the air. Her face distorts and her limbs flail about. Then the goddess disappears, and Auntie Okja’s body falls to a heap on the floor.

  “No!” I scream. “Not my auntie, too!”

  The goddess, now in Auntie Okja’s body, picks herself up off the floor. She straightens, clicking her vertebrae into place, then puts her hands on her hips and smiles. “All right, mortals, let me show you how it’s done. Who wants to go first?”

  “NO, STOP! PLEASE!” I SHOUT, as the goddess approaches my parents in her newly possessed body. My auntie’s body.

  She ignores me. Instead, she walks toward my appa and flicks her finger as if catapulting a bug. Appa is propelled into the air and lands with a thud against one of the Gom pews.

  “James!” Eomma cries, running to his side. She rubs her wrists and heals him as panicked tears roll down her face.

  The goddess continues moving toward my parents, ready to strike again, and my heart drops into my stomach. No! This is not how the plan was supposed to go. We already lost Hattie and Auntie Oh. I can’t lose my parents, too.

  That’s when the first metal star blade flies across my vision en route to the goddess.

  “Austin, be careful!” I call out, feeling conflicted. I know it’s the goddess in there, but she’s using my auntie’s body.

  “I won’t hurt her,” he calls out, hurtling two more stars toward her. “But we need to keep her from hurting anyone else.”

  The goddess momentarily halts and looks surprised. She must not have known the Horangi taught themselves a new kind of magic. But she doesn’t stay surprised for long.

  “Impressive,” she merely says. “But I’m afraid your party tricks will not be enough to stop me.” She laughs and makes another flicking motion with her hand. Austin gasps as he’s lifted off his feet and thrown across the sanctuary, landing hard against the Mountain Tiger Goddess’s statue.

  “Austin!” Taeyo cries. He looks around, searching for any water he can animate. But all he has is the little bit in his water bottle. He makes it shoot up from the bottle and form a barrier in front of Austin’s body, while Eomma runs toward them, leaving Appa recovering in a pew.