by J D Astra
Dokun’s grip tightened on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t hurt them,” he said with a defensive chuckle.
Woong-ji sighed. “I must accompany the children at all times. Please, lead on.”
Dokun dipped his head. “Very well. Welcome to my sanctum.” He released his grip on my shoulder and stepped through the door. There was a golden haze between us, something like the barrier between a dream and reality. He turned back and beckoned for me to join him.
If no one but he could operate the door, there would be no chance of escape. This was stupid.
But the treasures he had on the other side...
I raked my gaze across the sleek, well-maintained machina of the ancients—objects whose purpose I could never guess. Screens dotted with information were scattered all around the room next to tall towers, and at the center was a waist-heigh table, glowing with shapeless blue light that twisted and morphed the more I looked at it.
“Well?” Dokun asked, and I turned back to him.
I took a breath, but the words caught in my throat. I’d been greedy at the sight of all his wonders, and now it was like our dangerous reality snapped back into view. If he could open a doorway from thin air, there was no telling what else he could do. What if he could pull Mae right out of her device? Her knowledge was dangerous, and I’d already seen it misused once.
Dokun’s patient smile turned sad. “I understand,” he said as he stepped back to our side. “You don’t know the whole truth. You’ve thought me some kind of monster for the past year and think once you step over this threshold I’ll have you trapped at my mercy.”
He chuckled, then placed his hand open in the air. The gold munje deconstructed the doorway node by node, little bits of it blinking out of existence at a time.
When the door was gone, he placed his hand on my shoulder again. “You’ve been trapped at my mercy since you entered Kokyu, and I’ve not harmed you or tried to steal your machine spirit. Can’t you trust me?”
My heart pumped furiously, and I swallowed to wet my throat. Machine spirit... it must’ve been a translation slip between our languages, but there wasn’t much doubt he was talking about Mae. Mun-de-Jayu, where did she fit in all this?
“Trust is earned, and you’ve broken mine—all of ours. What really happened last year?”
Dokun raised a brow at Woong-ji. “I see you tell them very little.”
“Knowledge is a privilege that must be earned, and they are just students,” she replied coolly.
“But he’s your apprentice...”
Woong-ji keep her gaze locked on Dokun.
I clenched my jaw shut for what felt like the hundredth time on this trip. How had I not earned the right to this knowledge? It was about my family, my life! Hana’s hand slipped back into mine, feeling cold against the heat of anger. I breathed through my frustration and cleared the thought from my mind. We had to stay unified if we were going to survive.
Dokun hummed, then looked to me. “If you ever want to know the whole truth, you know where I am.”
He lifted his hand and created another door. The first-floor lobby appeared on the other side. Bastion students were gathered at the couches, talking avidly about the trip while Sung-ki paced slowly. His face was still, but the tight grip he had on his belt told me he was one loud noise away from loosing his entire potion collection on this place.
Dokun stepped through the glowing opening. The students on the other side gasped with wonder at the spectacle. The sound of their amazement was muffled as if it were coming through a wall made of water. Dokun’s words were indistinguishable, but his tone was jovial. He raised his hands as if to say, “Surprise!” and the students clapped. To them, it was like watching real magic—but I knew something else was in play here. When Mae came back online, we were going to analyze the secrets out of the data I’d collected.
Sung-ki’s wide eyes locked on me, then Woong-ji. My master stepped forward and passed through the portal unharmed, then nodded us forward. I stepped up to the rippling gateway and put my hand out. The hairs raised on my arms like they were being pulled forward. Then I stepped through.
But not into the first-floor lobby.
I stepped into a hazy forest, lit by moonlight. The scent of damp earth was faint, as if something half remembered, and the wind blew gently against my bare neck. I stopped and looked back to see Hana had disappeared, and so had the hall and the portal. I was alone at the center of an unknown forest.
“Jiyong.” Dokun’s voice spun me on my heel. He stood across the clearing, looking twenty years younger. “Don’t be afraid. I wanted to speak to you alone.”
“Are you inside my mind?” I asked, my voice warbling like it was on a different plane of existence. I couldn’t feel my heart beating, but my hands trembled in fear.
“We’re in a space between matter and time in the instant we cross the portal,” he said.
The meaning of his words was just out of reach.
He stepped closer, and the fog curled around him. “I know you think I’m a monster. I’m not. I want to heal this world, and I’m not here to take power away from the powerless. The incident last year was... an atrocity.”
“Then prove your innocence! Tell everyone what you’re doing here and share the ancients’ messages!” I demanded.
The image of Dokun stopped before me. “It’s more complicated than that, and I’m sure as a young man learning the ropes of espionage you can understand.”
He paused, then turned away, looking at something beyond the mist. “I only want to prevent more incidents like the one you experienced at the train station. That man, we’ve captured him. He’s a high-level munje user: five bands.”
I knew Woong-ji had seven, and though I’d never seen the true extent of her power, I knew it was immense. Min-hwan, who knew how many bands he had?
“Five bands is powerful. Those people can cause a lot of damage. If these extreme users go unregulated, we’ll continue to cower under the threat of terrorism. Munje must be controlled.”
“But at what cost? Those experiments killed hundreds of my people and permanently maimed thousands!”
“And I didn’t do that!” The illusion of the dark forest wavered, like his emotion had disrupted the very fabric of this existence.
Dokun sighed. “We’re out of time.”
The mist collapsed around me, and I moved to shield my face. Happy voices crashed down on me. I flinched as sense returned to my body back in the world I knew. We were in the main entrance of Yamato Corp. Dokun was surrounded by the exuberant Bastion students, spinning stories about the portal.
“What’s wrong?” Hana asked.
I looked down at our joined hands, then leaned closer to her to whisper, “Did you see that?”
Her gaze snapped left, right, then back to me. “See what?”
The portal zipped shut with a fizzle of gold, and Dokun accepted praise from the students. I turned to face Sung-ki, who wore a scowl on his face. He studied me for a brief second, then looked away.
The cold earth scent had gone, along with the breeze, and nothing remained but the opaque memory of a conversation that left me questioning everything I knew. Woong-ji had lied to me about what had happened at Bastion. She’d lied about a great many things, then told me that knowledge was a privilege I hadn’t earned.
Dokun turned, a natural smile on his face. We locked gazes, and with a single raise of his brow, my world was thrown into chaos.
What if Dokun wasn’t the monster, after all?
Chapter 22
TRANSPORTS WAITED FOR us at the edge of the long pathway from Yamato Corp. Enjiho guided us onboard, and the train of excitable students took off for the beach luau—the party Dokun had promised the entire school to coax us into changing our plans for the day.
The sun hung a few degrees above the horizon, casting orange, pink, and red across the cloud-speckled sky. The beauty of it soured in my mind as I considered our conversation between matter and time.
&n
bsp; Hana rested her chin on my shoulder and looked out the window with me. “Hey.”
“That was some tour, wasn’t it?” I asked her, my voice flat.
“Yeah, you’ll have to tell me all about it tonight,” she whispered, trying to sound casual amid the chatter of students.
Cho and Yuri stood nearby like sentries, quiet and still. I’d never seen Yuri so tense. Whatever she’d seen or heard on her end of the tour must’ve been worrisome in its own right. We would need to meet up again soon. I’d have to ask Sung-ki to help our excited minds rest tonight.
My mind ran in circles, chasing what I’d seen and heard at Yamato Corp. with what I knew from Min-hwan, and Mother. If Dokun had given my father a disc like Mae’s, he would’ve had all her powers at his fingertips. With resources like the Wong family—and likely others who could profit from drug distribution—he would’ve had the power he needed to operate alone.
The chatter picked up at the front of the train, and Hana tugged my arm. She beamed with what may have been real happiness as she dragged me to the windows on the other side. Glimmers of light sparkled up from the sea with the colors of reflected sunset. Pure white sand stretched on into the distance, dotted with families celebrating the very last vestiges of warmth before the snap of winter.
Hana wrapped her arm around my waist and hugged me. “I suppose it’s not a private beach,” she grumbled.
I snorted with laughter and wrapped my arm over her shoulder. “Raya’s beach does not interest me.”
We were quiet for a moment, then Hana smirked slyly. “Her name’s Numane.”
I scowled. “Huh.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Slick.”
The train decelerated, and a lively scene came into view at our destination. A bonfire at least three meters tall blazed on the beach, and students lounged about nearby. Down near the water, several more teens used en munje to splash one another or compete for the strongest wielders. The edge of the beach closest to the train station was lined by breezy-looking huts covered in sheer white fabric that drifted on the gentle wind.
The train set down and let us out into the fresh ocean air. Signage on the station read, Beach amenities sponsored by Yamato Corp. Thank you! Another sign below that one that had been scrawled in ry munje not long ago read, Closed at sunset for a private party. Thank you for understanding.
As far as I could tell, the trains were free; one simply had to wait in line. And then there were the Enjiho, the citizen operated safety force who did real good for the world. Maybe not heroic tales to be passed down as legend, but they made a difference—like rescuing people from drowning. Dokun had made this country a little safer, a little nicer, for every citizen... could he really be the man I’d been told about?
We moved out toward the huts to find Moon Shadow instructors relaxing at candlelit tables, drinking from glowing glasses that thrummed with green or smoked purple. Towels and swimming clothes waited on tables near curtained changing rooms that said, Swim safely, please!
The other Bastions ran like giddy children toward the offered garb. I couldn’t blame them. The thought of swimming out to the deep and resting on top of the cold water, looking up into the colorful sky sounded to be the most pleasant thing about now.
It would also give me a bubble of solitude to talk to Mae.
I joined the charging students with a little less enthusiasm.
“Jiyong,” Sung-ki called me.
I stopped and hid my annoyance at the interruption. “Yes, sir?”
He held up a metal disc with a smile. “I hoped you would help me document the cultural experience. It’s a mandatory requirement of these trips, since Busa-nan has paid for our presence here.”
“Oh, let him enjoy the beach!” Dokun interjected with a patronizing wave of his hand. “You may not get another chance to see a luau with the Welcoming of Winter upon us soon.”
I bowed to my instructor. “I can assist you.”
Sung-ki looked from Dokun, back to me. “No, he’s right. This is a rare opportunity and another cultural experience. Help me tomorrow morning.”
I bowed again with a grin. “Thank you, sir.”
With that, I rushed off to catch up with the others. The swimwear covered me from mid-thigh to my neck, and down to my elbows. There were paddle-shaped shoes that made my feet look like a gold-billed marmin, but I doubted I’d need them. I’d always been a strong swimmer from all the times falling into the river near Namnak, and I was a much better en user than I’d ever been.
“I’m back.” Mae’s voice was quiet in my mind.
I shot upright and a million questions blasted through my mind. ‘Are you okay? What happened?’
She chuckled weakly. “Give me a few minutes to unscramble myself. I’m okay.”
I sighed, and a tenseness I hadn’t known I’d been carrying dropped out of my shoulders. She was okay. Dokun hadn’t ripped her out of me. I finished getting dressed and set the paddle shoes off to the side for someone else.
When I came out of the changing room, Cho was waiting for me. He pulled on the legs of his swimwear with a wince. “I think it’s too small.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “It’s supposed to be tight. Keeps you warm.”
We walked out onto the beach, the setting sun warming our faces. The cooling sand squished between my toes, seemingly pulling the anxiety out of my body. It felt so good to take a breath for a moment.
Yuri and Hana were already at the sea’s edge, throwing globes of water between one another in a rapid juggling game. Yuri pulled two new globes into the rotation, and Hana’s movements became frantic. I couldn’t tell how many they had bouncing between them, but it was obviously too much for Hana, and a breeze for Yuri. Then the inevitable happened.
Water splashed against Hana’s face, and all the globes dropped to the ground. The girls laughed, and I smiled. It was good to see them unwind, even if just for tonight, right now. Yuri always wore an easygoing persona, but I knew this mission had her frightened just as much as the rest of us.
Cho cleared his throat. “I don’t mind just watching, but Yuri’s going to think I’m a creep if we don’t go over there.”
I hummed. “Are you a creep?”
He smirked. “Maybe a little.” Then his smile drooped. “She won’t give me a chance.”
I patted his shoulder. “I don’t think she knows you want a chance. Especially with the way you talk to the other girls at school.”
Cho scowled. “What, for giving them gardening tips?”
My brow shot up to a sharp, incredulous point. “They’re not just after your tips, and everyone else can see it.”
Cho rolled his eyes. “Please. You’re the one with wansil-mu Numane inviting you over.”
“Only after she learned I have a rich jobu-ke.”
He sighed and watched the girls start their water juggling game again.
I knocked his shoulder, a little harder than I intended, and he turned to me. “If I didn’t already have the girl of my dreams, it would be intimidating to stand next to you.”
Cho screwed up his face in confusion.
“Don’t make me say it out loud, man.” I couldn’t tell if he was playing dumb or really thought so little of himself. He was tall, with rich golden hair, blue eyes, and a lean physique. He was certainly more handsome than me, especially with my scars.
The smirk returned to his face. “It’d make me feel better if you said it out loud.”
“Get over yourself,” I said with a shake of my head.
“You first.”
We looked at one another, and I wondered if he was remembering the same moment as me. Our first year of school, after my second trip to the infirmary, I came to apologize to him for acting like an idiot. I remembered how small my problems were back then with fondness. My biggest obstacle had been winning a bot fight. Now we were spying on the most powerful man in Kokyu.
“Are you coming?” Hana yelled.
I waved to her, then
gave Cho a nod. “You’re prettier than me. There, I said it.”
His face wrinkled in disgust. “Prettier?”
“What were you expecting?”
He scoffed. “Not pretty. Yuri is pretty.”
I shook my head. “Yuri is cute. She’s like Mini, but taller.”
Cho shoved my shoulder. “Gross. She’s not like your sister.”
Movement caught my attention, and I turned just as a globe of blue glowing water smashed into my face. Salty sea water surged up my nose and burned the back of my throat. I sputtered, blinking away the itchy pain in my eyes.
“Got you!” Yuri yelled, and I looked up to see several more globes waiting to be fired.
I looked to Cho, who was barely containing a laugh. A globe dropped down from above and hit his head, splattering me in the process. Cho shot upright, all his muscles tensing as the cold water rushed over his face.
“Let’s get ’em,” I said in a whisper.
He nodded. “It’s on.”
We charged together, deflecting flying balls of water with flicks of our wrists. I poured energy through my third band and locked the en block over the crystal. The second and first bands lined up for tri-en, and I pushed the power through. Bright blue munje flowed from my hands, and I wrestled control of the water away from Hana, then pushed it back toward her.
She caught the ball and twirled it around herself, picking up speed as she regained control. The water launched back toward me, and I unleashed more munje. I split the massive sphere into five smaller ones and sent them sailing back to her at different angles.
Beside me, Cho was getting hammered by a nonstop stream Yuri pulled from the ocean. She cackled, redirecting the flow every time poor Cho started getting a handle on it.
Hana split the five globes again, sending ten fist-sized balls of water back at me. I pulled up my hands, unleashing the last bit of the shūspekta’s munje in the wall of deflection. I roared like the bear had, shattering the balls of water and sending tiny droplets rocketing back at Hana and Yuri. The gale-force rain slapped against them, and they ceased their assault, shielding their faces.