We march on with renewed energy until we spy the moonlit night at the end of the tunnel. I’m tempted to run outside to breathe in the fresh air, but I slow down and press myself up against the wall. Ethan flattens himself on the opposite wall, and we take silent, measured steps to the opening. When he holds up a fist, I freeze and listen for noise outside. I nod, and he peers out, scanning left and right.
“It’s clear,” he says.
Even so, he tucks me close behind him as we step outside. Warmth unfurls in my stomach, and I press my cheek against his back. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. But would it be so terrible to let someone else do it for me once in a while?Oh, hells no.I swat his armaway and stomp to his side. I haven’t had anyone protect me for over a century—minus the three years with the Lee brothers—and I don’t need anyone now.
The tunnel deposits us into a field of wildflowers turned golden from the summer heat. A gentle breeze coaxes the flowers to sway, and shimmering waves dance across the field. The song of crickets and the smell of rich soil surround me in a warm embrace. I feel not so much a sense of homecoming—I’ve lived in the United States for too long for Korea to feel like home—but a sweet nostalgia for my childhood. For a moment, I’m hopeful ... hopeful that I can hold on to the good stuff and let go of the rest at last.
“I’m guessing we’re headed that way?” Ethan asks just in time to dispel my fanciful train of thoughts.
I follow his gaze across the field. A solitary mountain juts toward the sky, and I recognize it as the one the lone cypress showed me.Oh, gods.We’re going to make it.
“If I were an old cypress tree, I’d want to live there.” I grin as I hurry forward. “Come on. It shouldn’t take us more than an hour to reach the base of the mountain.”
After what feels like a good hour, I look over my shoulder at the long stretch of flowers behind us. My lungs and thighs burn like I’ve been climbing uphill—not strolling across a flat field. The tunnel entrance has long since disappeared from view. We should be at least halfway to the mountain, but we aren’t getting any closer.
“Is it me? Or is the mountain getting farther away?” Ethan wipes his forearm across his brow.
I frown, focusing my senses on our surroundings. I don’t hear the crickets singing anymore. I don’t hear a single sound other than the rasp of our labored breathing ... like we’re sealed in a vacuum.
“This isn’t an ordinary flower field.” My voice echoes in the silence but is muted like we’re underwater. “It’s enchanted.”
The backs of my hands sting. When I glance down, I see a dozen scratches on them. My legs haven’t fared much better. The prettywildflowers have given me hundreds of shallow cuts. Without my healing powers, I’d have thousands. I scan Ethan’s hands, but he doesn’t have a single scratch on them. Maybe he’s so tall that the flowers don’t reach them.
“What do we do?” Ethan scans the seemingly endless field.
“I don’t know.” I shake away my disquiet and force myself to think. “The Seonangshin don’t want to make it easy for people to reach the cypress grove. But I can’t use my spirit eyes to find the right path ...”
The salt from my dip in the ocean would’ve slowed down the Suhoshin, but they must be hot on our trail by now. We need to get to the ancient cypress grove before we’re captured. If we get the sacred ashes, the Suhoshin might give us some time ... or even help us find Daeseong. But if I use my magic now, they’ll moon shift to a nearby body of water—the mountain must have plenty—and capture us, leaving us with nothing to barter.
“You could transform,” Ethan says casually, like it’s the obvious answer. “That way even if you use your spirit eyes, you’ll be fast enough to get there before the Suhoshin track you down.”
“You’re pretty fast, but you’ll never be able to keep up with my gumiho.” Just the thought of transforming knots my stomach with shame and anxiety—the instinctive fear of my fox spirit rearing its head again. To hide my agitation, I quip, “And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you ride me.”
No.I didnotjust say that. But my flaming-hot face tells me otherwise. I stare at my toes, hoping he lets it pass. When I see Ethan’s shoes stop just a couple of inches away from mine, I have no choice but to look up at him.
“I wasn’t asking for a ride,” he says in a low voice, his gaze dropping to my lips, then lower. “Besides, that’s not the kind of ride I’m interested in.”
My blood pounds in my ears in time with my heartbeat. Is heflirtingwith me? And he pickednowto do it? I can’t deal. But I’m temptedto ask him to explain in detail what kind of ride heisinterested in. Now really isn’t the time, though.
“Then what are you planning to do?” I ask instead.
He takes his time raising his eyes to meet mine, then says with a shrug, “I’ll catch up with you.”
“You’llcatch upwith me?” I gape at him. His dismissive little shrug annoys me to no end. “I just told you this field is enchanted. Once I’m gone, you’ll never be able to find your way out of here on your own.”
“I’ll find a way.” Ethan nearly shrugs again but catches himself.
I finally see through his nonchalant act. The idiot is asking me to leave him. To fuckingabandonhim in an enchanted field full of sharp, bloodthirsty flowers. If we weren’t in a time crunch, I would throttle him.
I settle for narrowing my eyes and snapping, “What happened to sticking together?”
“We don’t have to be literally stuck together,” he says, throwing my words back at me.
Considering the circumstances—where he’s being an unreasonable, noble asshole—maybe I can make time to throttle him. My hands rise of their own accord, with my fingers curled into claws. Before I can find satisfaction, something flits past us, and a faint cackling rings in the distance.
“Did you see that?” I whip around in a half circle.
“See what?” His brows draw together.
