“Halmeoni,” I breathe.
In the distance, she stands with her hands clasped behind her back, wearing a light-brown hanbok made of coarse cotton, with her white hair bound in a low bun. Her smile is both wise and full of mischief. Samshin Halmeom. She looks exactly as I remember her.
“Halmeoni,” I call out and run toward her.
She flashes in and out of view as I chase her, a blur of white and brown. When I lose sight of her, I follow the sound of her husky cackle and find her again. But no matter how fast I run, she’s just out of reach.
“Halmeoni,” I shout. “Wait.”
Other than my mother, Samshin Halmeom was the closest thing to family I’d known. She would come to me whenever I was playing alone in the woods near our little house in the mountain. She always asked me to help her find a particular flower, a rare herb, or a one-of-a-kind stone. As we searched for one elusive treasure or another, she would tell me the most wondrous stories. My mother said they were just fanciful tales. But sometimes ... they felt more real to me than our quiet life in the woods.
“Samshin Halmeom!”
I chase after her until she’s ... gone. Why would she run from me? Does she resent me for leaving the Shingae? Is she horrified by what I’ve done? I shake my head. It would be weird if shewantedto see me—not the other way around—especially considering who she is. Even so, I can’t stop the hurt sob that slips past my lips.
I’m so bereft it takes me a moment to realize I’m standing at the base of the mountain. Alone. Where’s Ethan? I spin left and right. My chest seizes, and all the air is squeezed out of my lungs. After all that,Ileft him. Now he’s lost, and I don’t know how to find him. Just as I’m about to scream and kick something, he sprints out of the field and lurches to a stop next to me. Shock paralyzes me for a heartbeat before relief rushes through me, making me choke on stupid tears. My feet carry me toward him without my consent, and I have a sinking feeling that I’m about to throw myself into his arms.
“Who was that?” Ethan pants, holding a hand to his side.
His question startles me enough to chase away my sentimentality. “Yousawher?”
“Yeah.” He squints at me, his chest still heaving. “The grandmother in a traditional dress. A hanbok, right?”
I nod slowly. “Right.”
When I grew too old to play in the woods, deciding only little kids did that, Samshin Halmeom stopped coming to me. It wasn’t until yearslater, when I’d almost forgotten about her, that my mother told me my favorite storyteller was a manifestation of the Seonangshin.
I still can’t reconcile my halmeoni with the fearsome god of Mountains. And I don’t understand why Samshin Halmeom had appeared to a precocious little gumiho in the first place. Maybe she’d really needed that flower or herb or stone. And maybe she showed herself to us tonight—and led us to the cypress grove—becausesomeonehas to stop Daeseong.
But before I go back to thewhy me?of it all, I have to accept one thing first. Even though I had my suspicions, especially after our run through the tunnels, I didn’t really believe it. But there is no other explanation for it. Only beings of the Shingae can see the gods and ...
Ethan saw Samshin Halmeom.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“That was Samshin Halmeom,” I say in a small voice, my gaze unfocused. “She’s one of the manifestations of the Seonangshin.”
“She led us out of the enchanted field.” Ethan straightens and looks around us, his breath evening out. “That means the Seonangshin wants us at the cypress grove. That’s good news, right?”
“Maybe.”Ethan is a being of the Shingae.The realization rattles deafeningly through my head. But I force myself to continue. “Or whatever shit that’s about to hit the fan is so horrible that the Seonangshin will helpanyoneto stop Daeseong.”
Why can’t I sense his gi? Did he hide his life force so deep inside himself that his magic isn’t detectable? It’s possible to hide your magic.Idid it for over a century. But that would mean Ethan knows about his powers. It means he can control his magic. And he’s been doing it since he was a teenager when I was with him. That’s not too far fetched. I was only eighteen when I had to hide my magic for the first time. I steal a glance at Ethan.
“Well, fuck,” he says, then runs a hand down his face.
I don’t want to believe it. What reason could he have to lie to me?So many,whispers a cynical voice inside me. But that’s not true. People only lie to you when they want something from you—or to keep something from you. I have nothing he wants. He has nothing I want.
I double down on the idea. I was perfectly content working at a crappy casino—eating my rare steak, drinking my tequila. I wanted andneeded nothing. I was a solitary island. Why would anyone lie to me?They wouldn’t.Ergo, Ethan did not lie to me.
The only person who has any reason to lie to me is Daeseong, because he wants something from me.But what if Ethan is working for Daeseong?What? No. That psychopath killed his brother.What if Ethan is somehow involved in Ben’s murder?No way. No. Fucking. Way. My paranoia is having a field day. Maybe my blood sugar dropped or something.
I can’t act rashly. I have to think this through with a clear head. I can’t let on that I know his secret. For now, I’m going to operate under the assumption that he’s my friend. And friends don’t accuse friends of killing their own brothers.
“Let’s get on with it,” I mutter and stomp into the woods.
He matches my stride. “Is there anything I should know before we face the Seonangshin?”
“Just follow my lead,” I say.
