He sets down his card and takes my hand. “It’s there. You just haven’t found it yet.”
“I don’t know how to defeat him.” I pull away my hand and squeeze the armrests of the chair.
“I brought my notes. Do you want to go over them again?”
“I suppose that would be better than breaking your seat apart.”
I roll my eyes and snatch the papers from him. We study his notes and review the legend for the next three hours as the train whizzes through rice fields and past jagged mountains. Out here in the countryside, snow covers the ground and lies heavy on the pines, reflecting brightly in the moonlight. We fly by a small town bordered by a low stone wall. The fluted-roof house lights wink at us as we speed by.
“I want my family to be safe and for this to be the answer,” I say as we put away the books and turn off the reading lights. “But I have this awful feeling that I’m missing something.”
Marc wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. I stiffen. I’m doing it again. Letting my guard down. I shouldn’t allow him so close to my heart.
“I’m here for you, Jae,” he says, his chin resting on my head. “You have to know that by now.”
His words melt my resolve. He’s right. He risked his life twice for me, once at the locker and once in the museum. How can I throw away that kind of devotion? I lean my head back, my lips brushing over his neck, drinking in his delicious smell. His body burns warm against mine, and my muscles relax in his arms. Assignments and myths fly away as my lips trail up his neck and over the light stubble on his jawline until our lips meet. His breathing quickens. I run my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. We kiss, hungrily this time. Needing to be closer.
Because this might be our last night.
Our last kiss.
CHAPTER 35
“Wake up,” Marc says.
I blink away the sleep from my eyes and reluctantly leave Marc’s arms. Everyone in our car is standing, grabbing bags, and shrugging into their coats.
The air is warmer here. Salty. My watch reads midnight. No wonder my muscles ache. I take a deep breath and step out of the train. The sky looms dark above, but the white floors and chrome pillars on the platform are lit up bright. I truck myself up the concrete steps and into the lobby. The outer walls of the station are all glass, and I imagine it must be beautiful here in daylight. I scan the area for Grandfather and wave when I spot him. He frowns. Figures.
“Jae Hwa. Good to see you. Well done, young man,” Grandfather says to Marc as we walk up.
“Haraboji.” I lower my chin, giving him a solid glare. “I don’t need an escort. I’m perfectly capable of traveling on my own.”
Grandfather lifts his eyebrows. “Indeed.”
“I’m glad to help,” Marc says, a twinkle in his eyes. “Can I come with you to the ferry?”
Grandfather frowns deeper but nods. “Only to the ferry. Your parents will be worried otherwise.”
Grandfather cocks his head, an indication for us to follow him, and marches outside to the taxi stand. In a clipped voice he tells the driver to head to the port and jumps in front while Marc and I scramble into the back.
“The boat leaves at six a.m.,” Grandfather explains as we pull away. “I’ve arranged for us to stay for the next four hours in a resting house next to the ferry terminal until we head to customs.”
“Dad has been leaving me five million messages,” I say. “I think it’s going to work. He says he’s taking the first bullet train in the morning. I told him to meet us in the Fukuoka terminal. That way he can’t talk us out of leaving Korea.”
Marc and Grandfather chat in Korean for the rest of the taxi ride. Marc is more fluent than I am, and I tune them out, wondering if I can pull this off. Will Dad take my bait and show up? Can I get him out of the country in time? I wonder if Haemosu will show up unexpectedly. I hope Haechi took care of him.
The closer we get to the port, the faster I twirl the golden bracelet around my wrist.
I have only slept for three hours in the tiny rented room Grandfather found before he wakes me and Marc. I munch on dried squid as we hike the two blocks to the ferry terminal in the misty, purplish glow of dawn.
The roadside is lined with tarp-stretched shacks where fishermen are already slapping the wooden tables with this morning’s catch. I sigh. An orange juice and bagel would be perfect about now. I try to focus on the ocean and the fishing boats bobbing near the shore. Beyond them the big sea tankers drift, outlining a skyline now soaked in indigo and dark, rain-puffed clouds. A storm is approaching.
We enter the parking lot of a giant building, and I immediately notice the signs in its aqua-colored windows displaying the Beetle. The boat in the picture is unremarkable, white with a black hull, but Grandfather says this boat flies over the water as if it has wings.
When we enter the terminal, I grip my dragon bow’s case tighter, hoping this plan will work.
Grandfather already bought our tickets and left one on reserve for Dad. We’re hoping he will arrive in time to catch the next boat. I peek through the glass windows that look out to sea at my escape boat bobbing in the water. My heart lightens as I realize that if Haemosu wanted to show up, he’d have done so by now. He wouldn’t make a scene in such a crowd.
“I guess this is good-bye.” Marc stuffs his hands into his pockets. “Skype me, Fighter Girl.”
Tears fill my eyes, but I don’t care. For the past six weeks, all I’ve wanted to do is leave Korea, but now I feel as if it’s a part of me. It’s brought me friends, a great school, my relatives, and now Marc.
I throw myself into his arms.
He stumbles back, surprised, I think; but he wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tightly as if he knows how I’m feeling.
“We’ll meet up again,” he says into my hair. “You’ll see.”
My head pounds as he releases me. What if I’m making the wrong decision?
“Come,” Grandfather says, motioning to the turnstiles. “It is time.”
I don’t have any words for Marc so I just kiss him. Right there in the lobby in front of my grandfather. He pulls me to him tight and cups my face in his hands and kisses me again, softly this time.
“Saranghae,” he whispers.
An announcement blares over the speakers, but I don’t move as I stare into his green eyes. He just said “I love you.”
He loves me?
Loves me?
I stumble after Grandfather to the gate. As I hand over my passport to the attendant, I glance back at Marc.
His hair is wild and sticking up everywhere, and he looks so alone that I want to run back to him and tell him I’m going to stay. Suddenly Marc’s eyes change. He’s looking at something behind me. He reaches out his hand and yells, “NO!”
I whip my head around, and I realize I’m holding out my passport to Haemosu, in a black button-down shirt with dark slacks, his hair slicked back.
Haemosu grins. His skin flickers like a thousand stars under the fluorescent lights. “You thought I would forget about my princess?”
All the air has left my body. I drop my passport and stumble backward. I glance around at the people chatting, talking on their cell phones, totally obvious to the Korean demigod standing in their midst. Of course. No one can see the immortals unless they allow it.
No one but Marc.
“Haraboji!” I shout, but Grandfather has already gone through the turnstile and can’t hear me over the crowd.
Haemosu lunges for me. I lurch away, his fingers brushing my arm, and Marc barrels through the crowd, shoving people out of the way. He dives and crashes his body into Haemosu. The two tumble to the floor. Those in line circle Marc, yelling and pointing at him.