“What? How are you able to see him? I know for a fact that the dokkaebi isn’t interested in you.”
“Let’s just say my eyes don’t hurt, but I’m seeing things in a whole new light.”
I can’t stop my mouth from hanging open. “What are you saying?”
Marc slides his hand in mine. I don’t pull away. “I’m saying I can see things. You know, supernatural stuff. Whatever happened to me back at the locker did something to my sight.”
“No. Tell me you’re lying.”
“I wish.”
“Pretty girl,” the dokkaebi says. I can hear him perfectly from ten feet away even with the traffic buzzing by us. “Haemosu wants pretty girl now. Before we go, remember our deal?”
“You made a deal with him?” Marc gapes at me like I’m insane.
“Absolutely not!”
“The belly of the moon, pretty girl,” the dokkaebi says. “Belly of moon. You get my treasure.”
The dokkaebi reaches out his oozing arm to grab me. A growl cuts the air as Haechi dives over my head and pounces on the dokkaebi. The dokkaebi shrieks, and in a torrent of colors, he disappears.
The bus screeches to a stop at our curb, slush spewing. There, painted on the side of the bus, is a giant picture of Haechi that the tourism office has been plastering across the city.
If they only knew.
“Get on!” Haechi tells wide-eyed Marc and me.
Marc is the first to break free of his stupor. He pulls me forward, cutting in front of everyone else in line, and the two of us clamber onto the bus.
“What the hell just happened back there?” Marc says. “That was Haechi helping us, wasn’t it?”
I nod in a slight daze. The gremlin’s words echo through my mind: the belly of the moon, belly of the moon. What is he talking about? And what has happened to Marc?
“Why is the Haechi helping you? And why does the dokkaebi think you made a deal with him?” Marc whispers over my shoulder as we work our way to the back of the bus.
“Who knows?” I plop into a seat, distracted by the furniture shop across the street. Its door disappears, and instead of there being furniture inside, there’s a beach with a traditional Korean temple on a cliff. I press my palms against the cold window and stare at the temple as the bus rolls away. What was that? Was that where the dokkaebi was going to take me?
“Jae,” Marc says, wrapping his arms around me. “You okay?”
“Um—yeah.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if Haechi didn’t show up.”
“The dokkaebi didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No. He’s more interested in some orb thing.”
Marc’s head jerks up. “What did you say?”
As the bus lumbers down the street through the city, I tell him about the time I encountered the dokkaebi in the subway.
“You know that dokkaebis can’t be trusted.” Marc twists his golden ring around his finger. He looks off into space as if mulling over something. “All they want is treasure. I’m surprised Haemosu would even trust the creature.”
I rub my forehead, a headache pounding my temples. I can’t deal with Haemosu and dokkaebis and break-ins and weird places popping up. One thing at a time. “Tell me more about this sight of yours.”
“Let’s just say the past twenty-four hours have totally sucked.” He slides on a pair of sunglasses even though it’s cloudy and overcast. He nods at me. “Seems to make the Others fade away. Plus, if I’ve got the glasses on, they don’t seem to notice me noticing them.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Marc, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“No, it’s not, Fighter Girl. Besides, my parents have been helping me. Apparently my gift might become useful.” Marc snorts. “That’s what my dad called it, you know. A gift.”
I cringe at the bitterness in his voice, but then how many times had I heard that same tone come out of my own mouth? “I get how you’re feeling,” I say. “At least your dad didn’t freak out.”
Then I remember how Grandfather and Komo said Marc’s dad was a part of the same order as they were. Which is probably why Dr. Grayson took it all in stride, unlike my dad.
“So why does your dad think seeing strange creatures can be useful?” I ask.
“It’s a long story.” Marc sighs. “The sunglasses were my dad’s idea. I bet you a million dollars all he’s been doing today is researching this whole thing. You have no idea how excited he is.”
“At least he’s being supportive.” I think about how my dad is in total denial over Haemosu. “Maybe it’s temporary. Maybe it will go away if we can kill Haemosu.”
“Yeah, that’s a possibility. I’m crossing my fingers. I know this sounds weird, but I’m actually glad. Maybe my dad is right. Maybe this will be useful in helping you out.”
“Nothing good can come out of Haemosu’s sick tactics.”
“Forget I even mentioned it. My problems are nothing compared to what you’re going through.” Then he lifts his sunglasses, raising his eyebrows, and gives me a devious smile. “So, are you ready to hear what I’ve got to say?”
“Spill. I’m dying to know the details of this cryptic plan.”
Marc whispers it into my ear so no one overhears us. He’s so close that if I turn my head our lips would touch. A warmth spreads through me just thinking about it.
When he finishes, I almost smile. We actually might be able to pull this off.
At the next stop we part ways. Me heading to the museum to get a feel for the place while Marc heads to his house to pick up a couple of things.
Unease churns through my stomach at the thought of Marc being involved after what happened to him yesterday. But I’m so desperate to get Komo back that I can’t even think straight. This plan has got to work.
CHAPTER 28
It’s five p.m., the time of our planned break-in, and Marc is late. I press my face against the frosty glass door of the museum and scan the plaza for him. Outside, a preschool group lines up in a neat row beneath the dragon flags of the Illumination exhibit. When they march away, the plaza’s concrete slab lies empty, nearly matching the gray sky above.
I flip open my phone and speed-dial Marc. If all goes well, Marc and I will get the amulet before Grandfather does, and I can still meet Michelle at the movies.
He answers on the first ring, saying, “Almost there.”
“The place is dead like you expected.”
“Good. Got my pliers ready.”
A minute later I spy Marc coming up the stairs and across the pavement. He’s got his hands in his pockets, strolling toward the front doors, acting as if he hasn’t a care in the world. As if he’s not about to assist with a theft. My heart quickens at the thought of what he’s doing.
For me.
He pushes open the glass door and my chest aches, wishing this could be an innocent date, where we look at boring old stuff and maybe kiss in dark corners. But today is nothing like that.
Marc gives me a slight nod as he passes me in the entryway before continuing inside. That’s my signal. But before I turn I see him.
Haemosu.
Standing alone in the center of the plaza, his crimson cloak whipping in the wind, in sharp contrast to the washed-out world around him. He looks at me with those dark-pooled eyes. His eyebrows rise an inch. Another school group passes by, oblivious to the man wearing a traditional Korean tunic and a circlet crown across his brow. One step, then another, he comes.
I back away, pulse throbbing in my ears, across the museum lobby and into the weapons exhibit. Should I call off the plan? Or go ahead with it?
I squeeze behind a panoramic silk screen and duck inside one of the traditional Korean houses in the next room. I drop to the dusty floor and crawl to a window slit to catch sight of Haemosu striding into the weapons exhibit. Perfect. He doesn’t realize I’m not there anymore.