“I’m glad you have that memory of her,” I say quietly. I wish I could remember my mother’s smile when I think of her. Instead, all I see is her white coat soaked with blood—the dark stain spreading wider and wider no matter how hard I pressed down on her wounds. I swallow my rising nausea. “Your mom sounds like she was a lovely woman.”
“She was.” Ethan smiles, and my heart stutters.
“I think you have her smile,” I whisper, staring at the soft curve of his lips. I force myself to meet his eyes. This is a passing crush, probably born of loneliness.
“Thanks.” He holds my gaze until my breathing grows shallow, and I wonder if he feels it, too—this maddening pull of attraction. He looks away and snatches a gimbap off the plate.I guess not.“This is definitely the best gimbap I’ve had in years.”
We walk in companionable silence, enjoying our delicious meal. We are as relaxed as two people can be while running for their lives. Notcomfortable enough to settle down for a picnic in the mountains but at ease enough to appreciate good food. Or maybe near-death experiences heighten your senses and make everything taste better.
Ethan offers me the last gimbap, and I get a little choked up. Nothing saysI carebetter than giving up the last serving of food.Iwould’ve fought him for it. I try to savor the last piece, chewing slowly.
With the food gone, I become more aware of my surroundings. The morning sun dappling through the lush green leaves, the crisp mountain air, the birds making a ruckus with their song. Goose bumps prickle across my skin. I feel at once alert and calm. The gi of the small mountain calls to mine—our life force, ancient and new, is one and the same—and my magic thunders in my veins, wanting to be unleashed.
“Ethan!” I barely have time to push him behind a tree as I spin away from the deadly blade.
The blue assassin is here. If my magic wasn’t so close to the surface, the dagger would’ve buried itself in my shoulder before I even realized it was coming for me. Ethan would’ve been next, but the dagger wouldn’t be in his shoulder. They don’t need him alive. The blood drains from my face, fear making my knees weak.
Ethan somehow pins me against the trunk, reversing our positions, and covers me with his body until his height and breadth cocoon me like armor. I hear the thunk of two more daggers piercing the side of the tree, much too close to us—to him. I’m suddenly furious, and I welcome the flare of violence that erupts inside me.
“Listen, you idiot. I’m stronger and faster than you. I heal quickly. You? You. Will. Die. Do you understand?” For a split second, I’m tempted to knock Ethan out and keep him away from danger, but I respect him too much for that. So instead I snarl at him, “Stay behind this tree. Save yourself for Daeseong. This isn’t your fight.”
I don’t have time to wonder if he’ll listen to me. I step out into the clearing as the assassin streaks toward me in a blue blur. These fucking golems and their unitards. But unlike the red assassin, he’s not wearing a full face mask. The dark slash of his mouth is curved in an off-kiltersmile, and the hollow depths of his eye sockets burn with malice. I can’t stop the dread slithering down my spine. Oh, what I would give for a blue beanie to pull over that hideous face.
“Slow down, Speedy.” I unsheathe my recorder.Shit.I shake off the glamour and raise my sword in front of me. “I wouldn’t want you to trip and get a boo-boo.”
I’m lying, of course. I would like nothing better than for him to trip—preferably on top of my hwando—and die. But Blue doesn’t seem to be in the mood to be obliging. He doesn’t even bother engaging in some witty repartee.
Without slowing down, he throws three more daggers at me. I punt two away with my sword and twist away from the third, but it grazes the side of my neck. Damn, he’s fast.
“Hey, that could’ve killed me,” I say with mock outrage and swing my blade down on his head. He effortlessly blocks my hwando with his long sword. “You got a little sloppy there. I thought Daeseong wanted me alive.”
The blue assassin finally responds in shrill outrage. “How dare you speak my master’s name? I will rip your tongue out for that, you filthy beast.”
His sword slices and cuts through the air with harrowing speed. I barely evade his blade, grunting from the strain, and can’t get in a single strike.Fuck.I put space between us with two backward flips. I struggle to even out my breathing as I circle Blue. He leisurely swings his sword in front of him, drawing an infinity symbol in the air. The asshole is taunting me.
“You’ve already forfeited your tongue, but I might let you keep your eyes”—his black tongue slithers out to lick his lips, and his breath quickens into eager pants—“if you come with me willingly.”
“Gross.” I gag. “You’re not only lying but you actually want toeatmy eyeballs. Don’t you? Ugh. I can’t even.”
Blue releases a piercing screech, and pain claws at my chest as though a thousand glass shards are tearing into me. I double over, blood spewing from my lips. It hurts so much that I want to weep and beg.
On second thought, I would rather have him kiss my dead ass. I struggle into a fighting stance, even as warm blood trickles from my eyes, nose, and mouth. The assassin shuts off his unholy shriek, and the pain mercifully stops. But I don’t think it’s mercy he has in mind.
“It’ll be so easy to kill you. I wouldn’t even have to raise my sword.” A chilling smile stretches his black mouth far too wide for his face. “But where’s the fun in that?”
The assassin launches himself at me, sword flashing. I block and parry, but he pushes on relentlessly. I stumble back, step by step, until I back into a tree.
Don’t be a stubborn fool.I hear a familiar voice in my head.What use are you dead? You want to avenge Ben’s death? You want to keep Ethan safe? Then transform.I know that voice. It’s Mihwa, the girl I used to be. The girl who loved the gumiho inside her.We are strong. We are glorious. Don’t be afraid.
But I am. I’m so afraid.
I grip my hwando with both hands and meet the assassin’s sword. I swing in a downward arc to push his blade toward the ground. A strategy forms in my head. It’s risky, but I have to take the chance. I just need to be faster than him and attack before he responds.Simple.I take the weight of my hwando off his sword and step close, thrusting my blade into his stomach.
But the golem has no sense of self-preservation. It might have something to do with the fact that he’s already dead. Rather than blocking my attack, he merely grunts as my sword pierces his gut, and he proceeds to slash my thigh, clean to my femur. I scream as agony reverberates through me, and I drop to my knees, withdrawing my sword from the assassin to break my fall.
My vision goes hazy, and bile rises to my throat. I bear my weight on my good leg and the hwando digging into the ground, but mybutchered thigh screams with pain, and I sway. Beyond the shock of pain, I realize I’m kneeling at the assassin’s feet like I’m awaiting my execution. That won’t do. No fucking way. With a roar of fury, I lift my sword with shaking arms.
“This istooeasy.” Blue cackles like a hyena and knocks away my hwando with a careless swing of his sword. “I’m almost embarrassed for you. I don’t know why my master wants you alive. A feeble, pathetic,foulthing like you.”
