“No.” I shake my head and stand, clenching my fists. I strap my bow over my back and snatch up my arrows strewn across the ground. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. When Haemosu dies, so does his power. I’m sure of it.”
Grandfather and Marc look away, as if they can’t bear the truth either. I take off through the courtyard and down the path that leads to the queen’s palace.
“Where are you going?” Marc calls after me.
“To the queen’s palace,” I say.
I’m going to free Komo.
CHAPTER 42
The queen’s palace lies in ruins, just like the first time I entered Haemosu’s world and saw its reality. Groans and cries fill the air.
My ancestors are still trapped inside. Haemosu was telling the truth. I was wrong. Again.
My knees buckle, and I sink to the grass. I’m pulled back to the day Mom left. She wanted her last hours to be in her own bed, holding Dad’s and my hands. She got her wish. She died in peace. But I never found peace. I clutched her hand until it grew cold, promising myself I’d never allow that kind of pain to tear me apart again.
And here I am. Komo is in there, and I can’t bear the thought of losing her, too. Komo had believed there was a way to release our ancestors. I have to believe she was right, because I won’t just leave her. Because, unlike Mom’s illness, this time I have the power to fight it.
I hear footsteps behind me, and I know Marc and Grandfather have finally caught up with me. I stand and take Marc’s hands. “I have to go inside and find Komo.”
The Adam’s apple on his throat moves, and his green eyes are set on mine. “You can’t,” he says. “You’ll die.”
“If I don’t come out, go back home. Don’t wait for me, okay?” I stand on my toes, brush my lips against his, tasting salt. I press the amulet into his hand. “In the throne room you’ll find the imprint of this amulet on a stand. Press the amulet in it, and you’ll get back home.”
“I’m not leaving without you.” As if to prove his point, Marc strides toward the gate, but he’s thrown backward to the ground as if there’s a giant force restraining him.
“You and I cannot enter,” Grandfather says. “I have tried before.”
I stare at Grandfather. “You have?”
He nods. “Sun. With Sun I tried.” Then he pulls me into a hug. In that moment we understand each other perfectly. All this is so much more than just the two of us. It’s crazy how different today is compared to our first meeting at the Silla Hotel. He pulls back, and even though there are tears in his eyes, I can see fire in them, too.
I face the palace, but Marc grabs my arm. “No.” His voice sounds panicked. “Don’t. There’s got to be another way.”
I think back to the Tiger of Shinshi’s words. He said my weapons were meaningless here. That there’s only one way for me truly to defeat Haemosu.
Sacrifice.
I shiver at that thought but push it away. I couldn’t bear living the rest of my life leaving Komo behind.
“There isn’t.” My face is wet. “I have to save her. Save all of them.”
The gate’s presence tugs at me.
This time I don’t resist.
CHAPTER 43
The air whooshes past my ears, and as I’m pulled into the queen’s palace, all color is replaced with grays and blacks. The space through which I was pulled is now a massive wall. I touch its cold stone, so similar to a tomb.
I start to panic. This is exactly what Haemosu wanted me to do. What if Haechi and Palk were wrong about opening the tomb? What if this is just one more thing I’ve been wrong about?
“Komo!” I yell, my voice echoing against the ancient walls. Is she still here? Grandfather and Marc seem to think she is. I scan the toppled pillars and dead bushes for her. Where might she have gone?
The fountain is corroded and crumbled. The path has sporadic gaping holes in it, and when I peek into one, all I see is endless darkness. A weeping willow stretches its barren branches over the courtyard, as still as stone.
At the other end lie the round-pearl double doors that lead inside another building. It’s the only part of the palace that still shines as if it’s polished daily. Could this be the tomb?
“Yesssss,” a familiar voice that’s half growl, half hiss says. “Open the moon.”
I spin to face the voice. It’s the dokkaebi, stinking like a wild animal. His red chest heaves in and out, and his eyes blaze a fiery red that matches his spiked hair.
“Pierce its belly,” he says. “Pierce its belly, pretty girl.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Wasting time!” He bangs his wooden club on a stone statue. It crumbles at his clawed feet.
Then as if he summoned them, a skeletal shadow creeps out from behind the stalks of the dead bamboo grove to my right. A hand gropes the edge of the fountain, the skin decayed with bones peeking through.
“Open, open, open!” he says. “Or they tear you apart.”
I swallow hard, my heart thudding in my chest as I ready my bow against these creatures. A bony hand from behind me yanks back on my arm holding my bow. I spin around to stand face-to-face with an empty-eye-socketed face. I scream, kicking it back. Another is at my other side; it too claws at me, tearing at my dress. All the while the dokkaebi’s laugh echoes through the courtyard.
They pull on my hair, grab my crown, fight for the bow. I kick, punch and yet they still swarm me, as if they’re angry I’m alive. I focus on the door, the pearl one as round as the moon at the other end of the courtyard.
The dokkaebi believes it holds a treasure. What if the treasure is actually my ancestors’ souls? Could I pierce it with an arrow?
I break out a roundhouse kick, sending the skeletons staggering back, and jump onto the edge of the fountain. I aim, draw back, and let my arrow fly. It cuts the still air and sinks into the center of the doors.
The doors swing open with a groan, a stale stench seeping out through them, revealing only darkness.
“Yessss!” the dokkaebi says.
The skeletons scuttle away, and I’m left alone with the dokkaebi breathing heavily next to me. A chill drenches my skin. This is the tomb. Not the gates, not the palace. This place of darkness.
A breeze swirls around my feet, scattering the dust and revealing a silver plate. I read the Chinese words:
ALL WHO ENTER WILL SURELY DIE.
Die? My Chinese is so poor, I could be totally wrong. I glance back at the wall, my heart aching for Marc. He would know.
“Hurry, hurry, pretty girl,” the dokkaebi says. “Bring the treasure.”
I step inside, where the air is still except for the padding of my bare feet against the marble floor and the pounding of my pulse against my temples. I hold my bow in place and creep in farther.
I squint into the deep darkness. “Komo,” I say, my voice grating against the quiet. “Komo? Are you here?”
The doors slam shut behind me. I whirl around. “No!”
I stare blankly into complete darkness. I lower my bow. It’s a trap. The dokkaebi tricked me. I’ve willingly entered my own tomb.
But Haechi said if I open the tomb, I could release the souls of our ancestors.
What if the immortals were wrong? My mouth dries up, and my arms ache from holding the bow. All I can think is that I’ve failed. All of this, only to fail!
I close my eyes and try to focus.
That’s when I feel them, my ancestors, like a blanket covering me. It’s as if I can hear them singing lullabies from another time.
The souls of my ancestors surround me. Reminding me that I stand here alive. The first of my line to escape marriage to that monster.