Vicious Spirits

by Kat Cho

  “You need to slow down. You need to explain it to me.”

  When Somin did, Miyoung cursed. “That stupid dokkaebi. Trying to martyr himself because he thinks he owes a debt.”

  “I don’t care why he’s doing it. We need to stop him,” Somin insisted.

  “Okay, we should leave immediately if we want to catch up.”

  “How? We don’t know how long he’s been gone. And we don’t have a car.” Somin felt her throat tighten with frustration.

  “A car,” Miyoung murmured. “I think I can help with that.”

  “You have a car?” Somin asked. She didn’t even know that Miyoung had a driver’s license.

  “No, but Junu has cars, lots of them. And he loves fast ones.”

  “Yeah, except we don’t know where Junu keeps his cars.”

  “Well,” Miyoung said, drawing out the word, and she shrugged as if she just couldn’t help herself. “When you live with someone you don’t fully trust, you tend to snoop. And in snooping, I found out where his storage garage is.”

  Somin laughed. “Well, I guess, thank the gods for your paranoia.”

  “Come on,” Miyoung said. “Every minute that passes, they gain more of a lead.”

  51

  KOREA IS A country of mountains. Folktales were written about their rocky facades. The mountain that had ruled Junu’s life had no such tales associated with it. It was not named in stories or poems like Guksabong or Baektu. But to Junu, this mountain was the genesis of his fate. The origin of his curse. And now it was where his long and twisting life would end.

  Perhaps, knowing that, Junu should have taken his time with every step. Remembered the trees and how they climbed up the rocky mountainside. How the air became thinner as he climbed. How small rocks kicked up against his ankles, lodging themselves in his tennis shoes.

  But Junu didn’t concentrate on any of those things because he was too aware of the minutes ticking by. How they seemed to go faster than normal. How they might be the last ones he had on this earth.

  “This place,” Sinhye murmured.

  Junu was surprised. They’d been silent the whole drive. And they’d been hiking for two hours without even acknowledging each other. He’d leaned into the silence. It was easier than having to talk to Sinhye, knowing that he planned to betray her. That after he got back his bangmangi and summoned Miyoung’s bead, he was going to ask the sansin to take his life in exchange for pulling Sinhye from Jihoon’s body.

  “Are you okay?” Junu asked carefully.

  “I’m fine,” Sinhye mused. “It actually feels more comfortable here than being in the city. I don’t know how you live like that. So much noise and bustle. It would give me a headache.”

  “You get used to it,” Junu said. “It becomes white noise after a while.”

  “What’s white noise?” Sinhye asked.

  Junu just shook his head; he wasn’t in the mood to give Sinhye a lesson on modern idioms.

  “Does it bother you being back?” Sinhye asked. “I can’t imagine you have fond memories of this place either.”

  Junu shrugged. He didn’t want to have a heart-to-heart with Sinhye. He didn’t want to be flooded with memories of his past. He just wanted to do what he came to do, and find some kind of peace. Whatever that looked like.

  “I didn’t ask them to change you,” Sinhye said. And Junu thought, at first, that he’d misheard her.

  “Didn’t ask who?”

  “That shaman. The sansin.”

  “Bbeongchiji ma,” Junu muttered.

  “I’m telling the truth,” Sinhye insisted.

  “Then why did they do this to me?” Junu asked. He didn’t believe a word she said.

  “It was to punish me.”

  Now Junu did stop. He stared at Sinhye, trying to discern any deceit in her face. But he couldn’t find it. Was it because she wore the face of a friend?

  “Why would he use me to punish you?”

  “For daring to love you instead of him. He could have trapped me without you, but he wanted you to do it so I would feel what it was like to be betrayed by the one person I loved.”

  Junu shook his head; he didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want to feel it squeezing his heart. “What we had wasn’t love.”

  “It’s all I knew of love,” Sinhye said. “Before you, I’d known lies. I’d known greed. I’d known lust. But you were my first taste of love. That’s why it hurt so much. Your betrayal. It’s why I hate you so much now.”

  There. That was the first thing Junu believed. And it helped harden his resolve. He was doing the right thing. He just had to forge ahead and get it done. “Well, I guess we’re both getting our revenge, then. Come on,” he said, starting up the path again. “We’ve got a ways to go before we reach the cave.”

  52

  SOMIN WOKE AS the car jerked to a stop. Miyoung wasn’t the best driver in the world, but she’d gotten them there in one piece.

  Dread filled Somin as she climbed out of the Porsche and stared up at the mountain. “We have to hike up this?”

  “Yup. Come on, we have a lot of ground to make up,” Miyoung said. She shaded her eyes from the sun, which was rising higher into the sky. It felt like it was moving too fast. Like time was racing against them.

  Somin had tried to practice in her head what she wanted to say to Junu but hadn’t come up with anything yet. She wanted to yell at him and hug him at the same time. She still wasn’t sure how she felt. A part of her was so pissed that Junu would do this. That he wouldn’t even talk to the rest of them before making this decision. But another part of her was so grateful he would sacrifice himself for Jihoon.

  “Are you okay?” Miyoung asked, and Somin realized Miyoung had been talking.

  “I’ll be fine when we find them.”

  “Then let’s get going.”

  53

  THE TREES FELT more ominous on this climb than the last. Perhaps because Junu knew that they’d likely become the guardians of his grave. What an odd thing to walk toward. Death. He remembered a time when he’d wished for it every day. But eventually, he’d learned to drown out that depression by living however he pleased. Still it never made him truly happy.

  It was only now, in the last few months, that he’d begun to feel like he was truly living. It felt like more of a life than the last few centuries. More of one than when he’d been human. This time he’d spent with this strange group of people who had somehow come to mean the world to him. Who he’d sacrifice everything for. It was perhaps the only way he knew to give a final purpose to his wayward life. He’d done no good while he was on this earth. So at least he could do one good thing as he left it.

  Junu stopped and reached into his pack.

  “Why are we stopping?” Sinhye asked.

  “Because we have to prepare.”

  “What is there to prepare? We just see the sansin, get your staff, and then you burn him to ashes. It shouldn’t be that hard.”

  “He has to trust us first. The dokkaebi fire won’t hurt him unless I can get close enough,” Junu said, pulling duct tape and rope out of his bag.

  “I don’t know what you think we’re here for. But you better put that away.”

  “He won’t believe you came willingly. He’ll think something’s wrong if you just walk up with me.”

  Sinhye scowled, but she didn’t rebut his statement. She glanced up the mountain, then back toward the way they came. Like she was considering just leaving him.

  Junu practically held his breath. Maybe he was pushing it. Maybe he was foolish to believe she’d go along with this. What would he do if she left? Then, with a sigh, she held out her hands.

  He started to wrap duct tape around her wrists.

  “Not so tight!” Sinhye complained.

  “It has to look convincing,” Junu said. And if he took a bit of p
leasure in wrapping another tight band of tape, then he wouldn’t let it show. Plus, he wasn’t sure how strong she was. Taking the rope, he looped it over the tape, then around her waist, effectively securing her wrists to her own torso.

  “Okay, we’re good,” he said, holding a bit of rope like a lead.

  “Well, let’s go, then,” Sinhye said with an expectant look. “Since we’re prepared and all now.”

  They walked more slowly as Sinhye struggled to balance herself with her hands tied. Twice she almost stumbled, and when Junu tried to help her, she elbowed him away. Fine, let her do it herself, he thought.

  The trees thinned a bit. Junu began to recognize markers. And too soon, they reached the meeting place. Junu half hoped the shaman wouldn’t be where she’d promised. But she stood at the entrance of the cave, dressed in a simple linen hanbok. Around her stood columns of rocks stacked on top of each other. Shrines to the mountain god.

  “I thought perhaps you wouldn’t come,” she said, and it didn’t sound like she’d have cared either way.

  “I told your niece I would be here,” Junu said.

  “I’m not foolish enough to trust a dokkaebi’s word,” the shaman replied.

  Instead of heading into the cave as Junu had expected, she walked past it. He followed her, Sinhye stumbling behind him. “I see you’ve secured the gumiho,” the shaman said. “Are you sure that’s enough?”

  “She’s in a human body. It limits her,” Junu said, keeping his voice steady, his face still.

  The shaman nodded as she moved through the forest. They walked almost a kilometer before the shaman stopped.

  “Is the sansin coming here?” Junu asked.

  “I will go alert my sansin that you have arrived. You wait here.”

  “Will he be here soon?” Junu asked.

  “He’ll take as long as he takes. It is not our job to tell him when to appear.”

  “The perks of being a god,” Junu quipped with a wry smile.

  “Be careful with your tongue, dokkaebi. My sansin does not take to humor well.”

  “Don’t worry, I remember,” Junu couldn’t help saying.

  With a final scowl in his direction, the shaman disappeared into the woods.

  54

  MIYOUNG STRAINED TO keep her pace. It was breakneck, but it was necessary. They had no way of knowing how far ahead Junu was. Or if he’d yet encountered the sansin. Miyoung wanted to be angry. But she couldn’t bring herself fully to the emotion. It wasn’t so long ago she’d have done something like this. Charged into something to protect Jihoon. She learned that she’d been foolish to keep everything to herself the way Junu had now done. She hoped that when they found Junu, he’d listen to reason.

  And if he didn’t listen, they’d find another way, because Miyoung wasn’t going to lose another person she cared about.

  Don’t risk yourself for his mistakes. Yena’s voice was a whisper in her ear, but she ignored it.

  She knew what she had to do. Knowing what Junu was willing to sacrifice, it made her see things clearly. She’d been convinced that losing Yena meant that she’d lost pieces of herself, too, watched them break free and float away. But she realized now that what had been breaking free was the facade she used to hide herself away from the world.

  Jihoon had broken through it. So had Somin and even Junu.

  She welcomed it at first. Let herself believe that she could live a more fulfilling life as a mortal.

  Then her mother died.

  And she felt guilty for hoping for a different life. Her mother had worked so hard to provide Miyoung with security and safety. Miyoung tried to free herself of that life, and Yena died for it. When all her mother wanted was to protect Miyoung. So she’d allowed herself to be buried in guilt. It was easier than facing the pain of losing her mother. She decided that what she needed to do was hold on to everything of Yena. That’s the only way she could survive. That’s the only way she could live. But the harder she tried to hold on to her old life, the more it dragged her down.

  So she would let go. She had to. Even if it tore out a piece of her, at least she’d still be alive in the end. And she’d figure out a way to survive the pain. Survival was what she was best at.

  Her footing slipped on loose rubble and she almost face-planted into a sapling. She caught herself just in time. Her weakened state was going to be a problem if things got messy today. She wished, not for the first time, to have all of her old gumiho abilities again.

  Taking another step forward, Miyoung suddenly froze. Something raced down her spine. A strange sensation that felt similar to when the moon hung in the sky above. A prick of power. Energy.

  “What is it?” Somin asked, coming up beside her.

  Miyoung held up a hand to quiet Somin. She listened intently, annoyed that her hearing was so muted now. It felt like being underwater sometimes compared to the heightened hearing she’d had before. But she finally picked it up, a strange humming sound.

  “We’re close to something.”

  “Is it them?” Somin asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Miyoung whispered. She turned, trying to catch her bearings, then faced east. “This way. It’s coming from this direction.”

  55

  MIYOUNG LED THEM to a cave that would have been almost impossible to find behind the thick trees that grew around it. Stone altars were piled up. And Miyoung knelt beside them, searching the ground.

  “There are footsteps here,” she said.

  “Really?” Somin said. “How can you tell?”

  “I just can. I’ve spent a lot of time in the forest. I can track using methods other than my senses. Thank the gods for that now.”

  “Was it them?”

  “The shoe sizes look right. There were three people, though, not two. One set is smaller, almost shuffling. Someone older?”

  “Would it have been the sansin?”

  “I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look like there was a fight; they left of their own free will. They followed the smaller steps. They’re going that way,” Miyoung said, standing again and facing a small path.

  “We’ll find them,” Somin said, and Miyoung wasn’t sure if she was reassuring Miyoung or herself.

  “I can’t help but wonder if I’d been kinder to Junu if he wouldn’t have been driven to this extreme,” Miyoung said. “Maybe if I’d just forgiven him when he asked me to, maybe he would have come to us first . . .”

  Somin shook her head. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  “I’m not blaming myself,” Miyoung reassured her. “But I still wonder.”

  “The last thing Junu said to me was that he loved me,” Somin said. Miyoung’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t say it back,” Somin admitted. “I guess I wonder if he’d have confided in me if I’d been able to say it back.”

  “We’ll find him,” Miyoung said, turning down the path. As they followed the trail, she asked, “What’s the plan?”

  “We find Junu, and if he’s still alive, I’ll throttle him,” Somin said.

  Miyoung laughed. “Okay, and then after that?”

  “I’m working on it,” Somin said. “We obviously need to get your bead back still.” She paused a moment, a strange expression crossing her face. “Sinhye told me something at the restaurant. I didn’t remember it at first because of everything that happened, and I’m not sure if it’s true. But if it is, then I think it might be important.”

  Trepidation filled Miyoung. She wasn’t ready for any more bad news, not right now.

  “What is it?”

  “Sinhye said that if a gumiho doesn’t feed for a hundred days, she can sever her ties to her bead and become fully human.”

  “I haven’t fed for even longer, and I am still connected.”

  “Yeah, but Junu said that you’re in some kind of stasis since your bead is in the
Between. Once you’re reunited with your bead, you can cut your bond with it. You can become fully human.”

  “I never really thought that was possible,” Miyoung admitted. “Do you think cutting my bond to my bead will hurt?”

  “I’ll be with you the whole time,” Somin said, squeezing her shoulder.

  Miyoung gave her a weak smile. “I don’t want to think about this right now. We have more important things to take care of, like saving Jihoon. And stopping Junu from making an irreversible mistake.”

  Somin nodded. “The reaper said that the way to save Jihoon is to sacrifice an immortal soul. I think I might have an idea for that.”

  “Okay? What is it?”

  “Since you can still sense energy, do you think you can still siphon it?”

  Miyoung lifted her brow, surprised. “I suppose I could, since I haven’t severed my ties to my bead. Why?”

  “I think we’re going to have to kill a god.”

  56

  “YOU SURE YOU won’t renege?” Sinhye asked. She was sitting beside Junu on the ground, shadows growing long as the day trailed on. If the shaman didn’t come back soon, it would be too dark to see anything.

  “I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he said, making nonsense designs in the dirt with a stick.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not trying to reopen old wounds. I’m here to tell you that you need to keep up your end of the bargain. You always did let your emotions and insecurities get the best of you. If you do that now, then we’re both as good as dead.”

  That’s exactly what I’m hoping for, Junu thought.

  The trees rustled as the shaman walked out of the forest again. Alone.

  “What’s going on?” Junu asked, searching the trees for another figure. Where was the sansin?

  “Follow me,” she said.

  So they followed her up the path until they arrived at a small clearing where a low, flat stone stood surrounded by trees.