“That’s okay. It takes a little practice.” Hailey shrugs. “At least you got us to the right place.”
“Thank gods for that.” I jog up the steps to the pavilion. “I’ll be right back.”
My room is already filled with the warm glow of candlelight—I probably have Miok to thank for that—and I feel a flash of disappointment that I have to leave so soon. Shaking off the indulgent thought, I grab my backpack from inside the armoire, where I’d stashed it earlier.
As I straighten, someone bolts out of the shadows from the other side of the room—so fast that I don’t even have time to scream before a blade is buried in my heart, the hilt sticking out of my chest.
A wet gurgle climbs up my throat when I see who is holding the dagger. I open and close my mouth, blood dribbling down my chin. “Y ... you ...”
Minju presses her index finger against her lips but rushes to catch me under the arms when my legs buckle beneath me. The historian is surprisingly strong and easily lowers me to the ground, leaning my back against the armoire. She whispers close to my ear, “I’m so sorry, but this is the only way I can know for sure.”
I cough and spurt some blood onto her face. She doesn’t bother wiping it off as she stares intently into my eyes, holding a small orb of light afloat on her palm. She’s muttering under her breath—it sounds like she’s counting.
“All right.” With a nod, she lifts my right hand, gripping my wrist. She shakes it in front of my face as though to remind me that I possess the appendage. “I’m going to pull the dagger out now. I need you to press your hand on the wound as quickly and firmly as you can. I can’t have you losing too much blood.”
The room is spinning, and my eyes roll back in my head, but Minju gives my hand another sharp shake. “Sunny, you have to focus. You have to stanch the blood. Do you understand?”
I manage a warbled assent. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but not bleeding out seems like a good idea.
“One, two ... three.” She pulls out the blade in a single, lightning-fast motion and slaps her other hand over my mouth to muffle my scream.
Whimpering against the white-hot pain, I press my palm against my chest. But no matter how much I push down on the wound, warm blood gushes out between my fingers. This might be a fatal wound that even a rare steak can’t fix. Minju curses and rests both of her hands over mine. Her eyes closing, she chants an incantation I’ve never heard before.
As the edges of my vision go dark, warmth spreads across my chest, and a silvery light spills out from under our hands. Sweat beads on her forehead, but the historian doesn’t stop the incantation, and soon the pain recedes until only a dull ache remains. She finally stops chanting and drops her hands. I chance a peek at my chest and find the wound healed shut, leaving only a faint scar. That’s some impressive magic.
The historian crumples onto her ass across from me, and I drop my head against the armoire with a thud. I don’t even feel it. We sit in silence, breathing heavily. But suddenly, Minju jerks upright with a gasp and scrambles to pick up the dagger she stabbed me with. I raise my hands in alarm, too weak to do much else. But she pays me no attention as she studies the blade by the candlelight, as though it holds the secrets to the universe.
“It’s gone,” she whispers and looks at me with round eyes. “Sunny, it’s gone.”
“What’s gone?” I croak. “And ... what the fuck, Minju?”
“This blade is a relic of the Endless War.” She raises the dagger for me to take a closer look, but I instinctively draw back. Who says she won’t stab me again? “It had been contaminated by the Amheuk. I, and every historian who came before me, have been working on purifying the dagger with hopes of understanding how to defeat the ancient darkness. Many of us became obsessed with finding the answer, but none of us have succeeded. Until now.”
“You stabbed me with a dagger contaminated by the Amheuk?” I’m too weak to sound outraged, but I really am.
“Yes,” Minju says matter-of-factly. “But look, Sunny. The contamination is gone.”
“What?” I warily lean closer to the dagger that was sticking out of my chest less than five minutes ago. “What am I looking for? Other than my blood?”
“Nothing.” The historian smiles. “It’s not there anymore.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Minju.” I speak slowly to make sure she understands that she might be crazy.
“You carry the Yeoiju, the last of the Cheon’gwang, inside you,” she says in hushed wonder.
Like lightning striking in my head, I remember the words of the Seonangshin.He still seeks a power within you—a gift of the Cheon’gwang.“The ... the Yeoiju? The gift of the true light isinsideme?”
“Yes, Sunny.” She sighs dreamily as she wipes my blood off the dagger. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No.”I scowl. “Being stabbed in the heart is not a very wonderful feeling.”
“I’m so sorry.” Minju cringes. “But like I said, there was no other way. Only the true light could’ve purified that dagger.”
My eyes widen in horror as a thought occurs to me. “What if you were wrong and Ididn’thave the Yeoiju?”
“I was fairly confident you had it ...”
“But what if I didn’t?” I whisper shout. “Would I have been contaminated by the Amheuk?”
