I swallow. Moon shifting is worlds better than traveling through the Gray Void, but nausea still clings to me from the trip back to this realm.Suck it up, Sunny.I walk gingerly up to the pond and take a wavering breath.
Hailey holds out her hand and raises her eyebrows, but I shake my head. “No, thanks. I need the practice.”
I manage not to stumble when I step out on the other side. But my stomach threatens to heave, and I clench my teeth until the urge to hurl passes. I glance around and find a small spring, capturing the water trickling down the mountainside. The moon’s reflection shivers beneath the constant drip of water. I’m surprised I was able to shift using it.
Wait.I don’t see the suhoshins anywhere. For a moment, I worry that I shifted to the wrong place, but I know I’m at Mount Baekdu. I can feel the powerful rush of its gi flowing around me. Where are the others? I don’t let panic get its claws in me. They have to be somewhere close by.
We were supposed to meet the informant at the base of the mountain, but I must be farther up, deeper in the woods. I let my eyelids flutter shut as I open my spirit eyes. My sight is best used for topography, the gi of nature drawing a map in my mind, but I should be able to sense the suhoshins’ life force to show me which way to head.
Before I can focus my spirit eyes, I hear the sound of desolate weeping. My physical eyes snap open, and I scan the woods. Did I imagine it? Then I hear it again. I take a step, then another toward the sound.
My heart wrenches as the sobbing continues. There is such sorrow in the sound that I’m reminded all over again of my mother bleeding out in my arms ... Samshin Halmeom’s arm burning to ash as she writhes in pain ... Ethan disappearing with the assassin before I can stop him ... The sorrowful crying fills me with helpless rage and grief. I realize it’s the sound of han—the twisted gi of a stranded soul.
I catch a flash of white in the corner of my eyes and sprint toward it, shaking away the desolation threatening to drown me. Whatever that thing is, its han is distorting my emotions. I hear quiet sobs to myright and swerve in that direction. Then the sound rings out from my left. The wailing grows louder and louder until ... a chilling cackle rings out in the night. I skid to a stop, my breath coming in pants, and spin in a circle.
With a strangled cry, I scramble back like I’m trying to climb out of my skin. The woman stands, dripping water from her white hanbok, the long locks of black hair falling over her pale, bluish face. Han rolls off the stranded in sickening waves. She’s a water ghost, someone who drowned in her mortal life. I shiver. Gods, she is so creepy.
“What ... what do you want?” My voice quivers, and I scowl.Get your shit together.
“I didn’t want to lie to Jaeseok,” she says in a thin, reedy voice. “I like him. He actually talks to me like I’msomebodyinstead of running away from me screaming.”
“Lie to Jaeseok? You’re his informant.” My heart sinks like a stone in a bottomless well. “So there’s no dragon spirit in Heaven Lake.”
“I wouldn’t know. I never go in that lake. It gives me the creeps.” She paces listlessly back and forth. “But everyone knows about the Cheonji Monster. And human lore is usually at leastpartlytrue.”
“Who told you to lie to Jaeseok?” I slowly withdraw my hwando from my backpack, not wanting to startle the water ghost, and scan the dark shadows of the suddenly sinister woods.
“You meanwhat.” She grimaces. “He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t a stranded either. And that awful yellow unitard. Blech.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
The ghost crinkles her nose beneath the curtain of her lanky hair. “Language.”
“Why?” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Why did you do it?”
“He said he’ll kill the man who raped me.” Sobs rack her thin body. “He said he’ll kill him in a way that won’t let him reach Underworld. I thought ... I thought that would free me from my han.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. The poor stranded soul disappears into the night, weeping her endless tears. I hope she finds a way to be free of her han.
This is a trap Daeseong set to lure me back to the Mortal Realm. I feel it in my bones. But why? There’s something important I’m missing. It niggles at the back of my mind, just out of reach. I huff a sigh of frustration.
For the time being, I have to get to Heaven Lake. Yes, the water ghost lied. Yes, it’s a trap. But there’s still a chance that the Cheonji Monster is real and that it’s an actual dragon spirit. Because I really need those dragon scales.
I exhale three bursts of short breaths and step into the wavering moonlight reflected in the little spring, focusing unerringly on Heaven Lake. This time I moon shift quicker and land on the other side, like I stretched my leg out to step over a big puddle. No whooshing wind or free-falling through the abyss. And—I glance around to make sure—I reached the right place. Even in the inky darkness, Cheonji glistens like a vast, unending mirror ahead of me as I stand in the midst of a thick grove of trees.
I feel a spike of pride as the torrential gi of Heaven Lake washes over me. I’m getting the hang of this moon shifting business. High magic isn’t such a big deal. Maybe I’ll figure out how to fly next. My cocky laugh turns into a grunt as someone bulldozes into my side.
I stumble twice before swiftly regaining my footing. And not a moment too soon, because my assailant draws back a fist to plow into my face. I block and sidestep to deliver a jab into their ribs. I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt the bad guy. They don’t so much as grunt. They must be wearing some kind of armor, but I can only make out the shadowy outlines of a man.
He’s big. Much bigger than me. And stronger too. I block yet another punch, staggering from the impact. I’m not going to best him in a fistfight, but I refuse to draw my sword on an unarmed man—foeor not. The only advantage I have over him is my speed. I need to get close enough to use his weight against him.
I let him land a punch on my torso, shifting my body sideways so I don’t feel the full impact of the blow. Even so, all my breath leaves my lungs, and my legs threaten to give out under me. Focusing with every ounce of my will, I clutch a fistful of his shirt and spin around, lifting him over my shoulder. His feet leave the ground, and I use the momentum to flip him.
Before I can gloat, he grabs hold of my arm as he falls, and we both tumble to the ground. We tussle in the dirt, trying to pin the other down and gain the high ground. As we struggle and roll around some more, I hear a sharp gasp from my assailant and rejoice, thinking he got stabbed by a sharp, deadly branch. But he rolls onto his back and holds me against his chest, pinning my arms by my sides. Is he trying to squeeze me to death? I lurch against his hold, but he doesn’t budge. I try to knee him in the groin, but he clamps me down with one of his legs. It feels like a hot, muscular log fell onto my legs. I scream in frustration, the sound muffled against his chest.
“Shh,” he murmurs in my ears. A shiver runs through me.
What the hell? Scared of my visceral reaction to the bastard, I attack the only way I can with my whole body trapped against his body. I bite his chest.
