He raises his eyebrows as if wary but then flashes me a movie star–worthy smile. “I am pleased you have finally decided to see things my way. You must wish to see what soon will be yours. Everything is easy. Perfect. You will be so happy here.”
Happy when you’re dead, that is.
“You know, you are my favorite,” he says. “Far more interesting than any of the others.”
He slides off his throne, and as he reaches for me, I leap at him and ram the long handle end of the fan into his chest. He totters back, surprise lighting his face. I twirl the stick again and smack him across the temple.
But when I raise the stick to whack him again, my gilded arm freezes in the air like stone. He snatches the long-handled fan away and snaps the handle in half, tossing it to the side.
“Really, Jae Hwa,” he says. “How are we supposed to live a life of bliss if you are always trying to kill me?”
“Seriously? How about you tell me where my aunt is and then we can discuss bliss.”
“Your aunt was poison to your soul, Jae Hwa. You needed to be free of her influence.”
“You know”—I’m shaking I’m so angry—“I can’t take your crap anymore. I wish I was good at playing games or conniving enough to outwit you at them. But I’m not. I haven’t forgotten how you tried to gouge my eyes out as a bird. I haven’t forgotten what you did to my aunt and Marc. And I remember this place as it really is: a stinking vision of hell. So this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to take me to the queen’s palace and let Komo and my ancestors go.”
I spin on my heels. My gold belt clinks as I march across the hall. I keep my chin high, trying to ignore the pricking feeling under my dress, and head toward the double wooden doors that span higher than a two-story house.
A snarl cuts the air.
“Where do you think you are going?” Haemosu growls.
I glance back. Haemosu’s glamour has disappeared, and I can see him for the wasted creature that he is. His sunken eyes glow red like the eyes on my bracelet, and all his tongues flick out of his mouth like hungry snakes.
“Open the doors!” I throw as much force into my words as I can muster, hoping he won’t hear the fear behind them.
“Never,” he roars at me, sending my hair flying.
“Open them!” I jab my finger at the doors.
A rumble pulses the ground and shakes the doors. With a moan, they swing open.
My jaw drops. I never expected them to obey me.
I rush outside, down the steps, passing stone statues of dragons and phoenixes, and into a grassy courtyard. There are at least ten other buildings circling this courtyard, with more tucked away behind those. They are miniature versions of the great hall in Gyeongbokgung Palace, wood structures with stone pillars and fluted roofs. When I took the tour of the Gyeongbokgung Palace with Dad, I remember there being at least three hundred buildings. I’m sure this place isn’t much different. It could take all day to find the queen’s palace.
Just beyond the courtyard is a stone wall nearly twenty feet tall, with convex and concave tiles alternating across the top. Out here that sweet, fruity smell is even stronger. Jagged mountains just like the ones that surround Seoul rise up through an evergreen forest beyond the wall.
“Where are the prisoners?” I spin in a circle and scan the courtyard.
“I told you, Princess. I do not hold prisoners.”
“Stop calling me princess!”
I spot a small bridge that crosses a stream, the water sparkling like diamonds. There’s something familiar about this stream. Is it the same one that had been filled with bones earlier? I stride out to the bridge, where I lean over its side, holding on to the thick wooden-beamed railing. With my eyes closed, I listen.
I expect to hear the gurgle of the water as it slips over the rocks, following the current. Or maybe the twitter of birds, calling to their mates. Or the song of cicadas, a lullaby to the trees.
But I don’t.
Instead I hear the coursing of wind sifting in and out of barren trees. The rustle of dead leaves across the ground. The cries of girls in anguish.
I snap up straight and face Haemosu. He’s strolling toward me with a lazy grin and smooth olive skin, his glamour back.
“Forget the bracelet, my love,” he says in a low, even voice that curls around my heart and pulls me to him. “Stay with me now. You do not need to wait until the last dragon burns red to become my queen.”
I back away to the other side of the bridge. How is it that after all he’s done, after I know the truth about him, my heart still aches to believe him? To slide into his arms and join him in his perfect world. I shake my head hard to get rid of his voice seeping into me. Poisoning me.
“Queen?” I say. “What about all the other girls? Won’t they be a little jealous?”
“There are no others. Only you.”
He stretches out his hand, fingers extended, and slowly makes a fist, squeezing so tight his fingers whiten. My chest constricts, and I double over in pain.
Can’t breathe!
I push my hand out against the pressure, and for a brief moment it’s as if I can touch his grasp and push him back. His hold lessens, and his eyes grow wider. Maybe I do have some power in his world. But as soon as the surprise of this fades, I can feel his fist overpowering me again.
I stagger backward and, turning, break into a sprint down the path and through a small side gate. I must find the queen’s palace. I might not be strong enough to beat Haemosu; but if I can open the queen’s gate to save my ancestors and Komo, then all this won’t be for nothing.
I race into an evergreen forest, tripping over my skirts and landing face-first in the dirt. I claw at the ground until I’m up and stumbling along the dirt path through the forest.
At the end of the forest I spy the palace. But it isn’t crumbling or gray like before. It’s golden, with sharp rays of sunshine and blue flags waving in the tangerine-scented breeze. The gates gape open, as if inviting me inside. I slow my pace as I step out of the forest.
Why is the gate open? Is this the right place?
No one is inside. No hands claw over the edges. No cries for help.
Yet I’m sure that this is the place. I remember it perfectly.
Had I been wrong about just needing to open the gates? But that’s what Haechi had said.
Haemosu materializes in front of the entrance, hands clasped and feet apart as if he’s out here to enjoy a lovely day in the sun. I clench my teeth, hating him all the more.
I shuffle closer, eying him. “The gates. They’re open.”
“Of course.”
I dig my nails into my palms and suppress the storm inside my chest. Because my grand plan to open the gates and release my ancestors is obviously the stupidest one in this dynasty.
“Where are they?” I say.
His forehead bunches up, and he cocks his head to the side.
“I said, where are they!”
“Do not be foolish.” He stretches out his hand, gesturing me to walk ahead of him. “Please, come with me into the palace. See your new home.”
A lilting song reaches my ears. It sounds like someone is singing inside. The voice sounds like Komo’s.
I brush past him to stand at the entrance of the palace, inches from the open gate. Only the strangeness of the situation keeps me from entering.
“Komo!” I call out. “Are you there?”
“I’m here, darling,” Komo’s voice says from inside. “Come and join me.”
I frown. Komo would never call me darling. Something isn’t right here.