I stand still, expecting the dragons to come bursting through our makeshift barrier, but nothing happens.
“You need to tell me right now what’s going on,” I say.
“Haemosu still seeks his princess, his bride who escaped him.” Grandfather wipes sweat from his brow. “You did not listen to me. I told you this island was dangerous.”
“You could have emphasized the danger more.” I cross my arms. “So what is with this Haemosu guy? Wasn’t it like a thousand years ago that Princess Yuhwa left him?”
“Indeed. But to a demigod a thousand years is nothing. He hunts and kidnaps the oldest unwed female of each generation of Habaek’s family.”
“That is—” I want to say “freaking impossible.” But how can I deny what I just experienced?
“Princess Yuhwa’s bloodline pumps through your heart. You are the oldest female in this generation,” Grandfather explains, snuffing out one of the sconces. “But you already know this.”
I think about my name glowing in gold. “So that was him back there. Coming to kidnap and whisk me away in his chariot.”
“Yes.” Grandfather frowns. “This is why I told your father not to bring you to Korea. We should leave this place. It is no longer safe.”
This is all too much to process. But then the words no longer safe rise out of the muddle in my brain. I swallow. “You were able to save some of the girls, right?”
As if to avoid my question, he turns toward the weapons lining the far wall. Swords gleaming in the firelight. Bows waiting to be plucked off the wall and strung.
“My great-great-grandfather had hoped to kill Haemosu. He collected ancient—and what he believed—magical weapons. He failed. So similar to Habaek, when he tried to stop Haemosu from taking away Princess Yuhwa.”
“You act like I’m already dead.”
He hesitates before snuffing out another sconce. “The only survivors were those who married before they turned fifteen, or those who left the country. Haemosu must relinquish his power to the immortals of other lands.
“Your father deemed all this nonsense even after I showed him these scrolls. But the proof is here.” Grandfather gently picks up the scroll on the table.
That does sound like Dad. He only believes in what he can see and touch. It was always Mom who believed in the spiritual. My heart squeezes.
A gust of wind tears through the room and extinguishes the third sconce. A crash vibrates down the tunnel, followed by footsteps. Only the last torch on the wall keeps us from total darkness. Someone is coming. Haemosu?
But it’s only Dad, storming into the room like a tsunami.
“What have you done?” he bellows at Grandfather. “You promised never to take her here.”
“I was saving her.” Grandfather lifts his chin and straightens his back. “I told her not to come. She would not listen.”
“You’ve filled her mind with nonsense, haven’t you?” Dad says. “I told you, I begged you to keep the peace!” Dad focuses on me. “Don’t believe any of it,” he tells me, his eyes pleading. “Don’t listen to his lies.”
“But what if he’s right, Dad?” I ask, not really sure I believe it all myself, yet unable to explain being sucked into a mural and chased by a dragon-led chariot.
Dad stares for a second. Then: “Look what you’ve done!” He points a shaking finger at Grandfather, windblown hair hanging over wild eyes. “This must stop!”
I’ve never seen Dad lose his cool like this. He may have lived in America all his life, but he always held to the Korean traditions of respect and honor to one’s elders. I press my back against the clammy wall.
“I am trying everything I can to save her.” Grandfather clenches the scroll in his hand so tight, I’m worried it might crumble.
“Like you did with Sun and Eun. You drove them insane with all your stories and incantations. I won’t allow you to infect my daughter.”
Sun. I think back to the pagoda on the pinnacle. Wasn’t that the name directly under mine?
“Who are Sun and Eun?” I ask.
A strong wind sweeps down the corridor, swirling around the three of us. A tip of the tarp tears free from the stone wall. Light shoots from the corner of the tarp, and a wind gushes into the cave. I watch in horror as the celadon incense burner crashes to the floor, breaking and scattering like green sand. The tarp erupts into an inferno, and I dive for the scrolls and books, bundling them in my arms, expecting to see the dragons raging through the blaze at any moment.
“No!” Grandfather leaps toward the flames, yanks off his coat, and starts beating out the fire with it. It’s useless. The fire only grows, as if some magical force is at work.
“Haemosu!” Grandfather yells. He glares at Dad. “You left the door open and allowed the light in!”
“It’s a fire, Abeoji.” Dad shrugs off his coat and joins in Grandfather’s attempts at beating out the fire. “This isn’t about mythological creatures!”
I’ve no idea how the light has anything to do with this, but it’s too late for accusations. The flames lick the scrolls like hungry serpents. Heat burns my skin, and smoke chokes my lungs. I start coughing. Through the gray haze, I see Dad trying to pull Grandfather away from the firestorm, yelling in Korean for him to get out.
Then Dad focuses on me, and there’s pure panic in his face. I suddenly understand that losing me would probably kill him. He pushes me out of the room. We all rush down the tunnel, doubled over from coughing, and burst out of the cave onto the beach. I suck in fresh sea air and clutch the few scrolls I rescued tight to my chest.
Black smoke now puffs from the mouth of the tunnel and spirals up in the air.
“I could not save any of it,” Grandfather says, his face sooty and his once-crisp clothes burned and ragged. “Everything—gone.”
“Not everything,” Dad says. “The two of you are safe. That’s what matters.” Then he holds my face between his hands, staring at me with such intensity. “I couldn’t bear losing you, too.”
I’m not the hugging type—at all—but those words send my emotions out of whack, and the reality of what just happened overwhelms me. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I can’t stop them. I drop the scrolls and throw my arms around Dad. He stumbles back as if surprised, but he doesn’t pull away. He holds me tighter and stares vacantly at the smoke, as if lost in another time. “Perhaps it’s for the best,” he mutters. Then he seems to come out of his stupor, letting out a long breath, his jaw set. “We should leave.”
“Now?” I dry my face with my sleeve. “What about meeting the rest of the relatives?” I’m grasping onto every excuse to spend more time with Grandfather.
“Yes, now,” Dad says, insistent, as if he too is running away from something. “We should never have come.”
“You cannot leave now,” Grandfather says. “Not after what has just happened. Haemosu knows she is here. Nothing will stop him until she is his!”
“You lied to me.” Dad scowls at Grandfather. “You promised you’d take medication for your delusions. You promised there would be no more drama. And here we are. Barely alive. You nearly got her killed with your ridiculous torches and caves and weapons. Jae will have no part in your life from now on.”
“I won’t go.” I cross my arms. “What if Haraboji is right? I need to figure this all out.”
“There is nothing to figure out,” Dad says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and directing me down the beach. “We need to get you back home where it is safer. Remember that ski trip you wanted to go on? Any more of these antics, it’s off.”
I stumble back across the stone bridge after Dad, still shaken by everything that happened. My mind whirls in a hundred directions, and I’m not sure what to believe anymore. Will I really be safer at home?