Gilded (21 page)

My sleeve must have slipped up my arm, exposing Haemosu’s little gift and touching his neck.

“Oh my gosh!” I say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Man.” He rubs his neck. “That thing has a bite to it, doesn’t it?”

Looking down, I see the two dragons’ eyes are glowing, as if the creatures are watching us. I yank down my sleeve, covering the bracelet.

“Let’s get some ice on it,” I say.

After he’s got the ice pack pressed to his neck, he says, “Remember what I told you after the NHS meeting today about that bracelet of yours?”

“A sign of enslavement. How could I forget?”

“Come here.” He grabs my hand and leads me down the hall. “I’ll show you what I found.”

When I realize we’re about to enter his bedroom, I stop. “Your parents don’t mind?”

“They’re still at work. Don’t worry.” He laughs. “You’re safe with me.”

There are books everywhere, piled in stacks on the floor and loaded on shelves. He’s got a wide desk cluttered with scrolls, a globe, and more books. A long shelf rests above his desk, running the full length of the window, with mounds of artifacts teetering on it.

I sink into a large futon chair and point to his shelf. “Did you find those?”

“Yeah. I guess I have a trophy wall of my own.” He rummages through a few books on his desk until he pulls out one. “Here it is.”

He hands me the opened book. I study the illustration of a glowing man pulling a long chain. A straggling line of weeping girls with bowed heads is attached to the chain. It’s obvious they’re being dragged into slavery.

“Look at the bonds that keep them chained.” Marc hands me a magnifying glass.

I don’t want to look, because the pain on these girls’ faces is all too familiar. I recognize that desperation, that hopelessness, in my own reflection in the mirror. But I straighten my back. There’s no way I’ll be able to defeat Haemosu by allowing myself to be sucked into the pit of despair. I take the magnifying glass and hold it over the page.

He’s right. Though the ink on the page has faded, the golden luster of the girls’ bonds remains. And a strange pattern. I lean closer. No, not strange at all; a sickeningly familiar design comes into focus. The twisted curl of the dragon’s body.

I drop the magnifying glass.

“This book was written about a hundred years ago,” Marc
says. “It’s obviously a reprint, but I think the stories have some truth to them.”

I push the book away and cross my arms, wanting to hide my own shackle. Pretend it doesn’t exist. “Yeah, they do.”

“Maybe it was a bad idea to show you.” He clamps the book shut and shoves it into his bookshelf. “I seem to be making a mess of things rather than fixing anything.”

I press my fingers to my temples, willing my brain to stay focused. Panic threatens to crawl up my throat, cinching it so tight I won’t be able to breathe.

“Hey.” Marc pulls me up and into his arms. “We’re going to figure this out. Together. You aren’t alone in this.”

He drags his fingers through my hair, and then his hand trails down my neck. I don’t stop him. He tilts my chin so I’m looking into those forever-green eyes of his, and I believe that he’ll do whatever he can to help me.

He presses me to him, and my arms wrap around his neck, loving how perfect his body feels. His lips kiss my forehead, breath hot as fire, and drag along my cheeks to my lips.

I’m lost. Between earth and sky.

It’s as if we’ve entered our own realm that belongs only to the two of us. I could live here forever.

A knock on the door.

We push apart. For a moment I can’t remember where I am.

“Marc,” a man’s voice says from the doorway. I look over to see his dad. Frowning.

“Dad.” Marc’s voice comes out clipped, angry. “This is Jae.”

“Hello, Jae Hwa.” He smiles and reaches his hand out to
shake mine. Once again I’m reminded of how much Marc looks like his dad. Same broad shoulders, square jaw, and shaggy hair. The only difference is, his dad’s eyes are blue. “We met at the museum. I’m good friends with your grandfather. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay.” I study him, confused, and unsure what to say. It seems he knows more about my situation than I thought. I peek over at Marc. Did he tell his dad? But Marc just shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Can I talk to you?” Dr. Grayson asks Marc.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Marc squeezes my hand and follows his dad into the hall.

I bite my lip. Dr. Grayson seemed ticked off that I was here. I slide out the doorway into the hall, listening.

“What are you doing, kissing her?” Dr. Grayson asks Marc as they enter another room at the end of the hall. “You are disregarding protocol and breaking the rules.”

The door slams shut, and with it my heart. Disregarding protocol? Breaking the rules? The truth hits me like a mass of concrete. His parents don’t approve of him dating me. Is it because I’m Korean? Maybe I’m not smart enough. Or maybe his parents need him to find that special artifact, and I’m distracting him from achieving his destiny.

I lean against the wall, my bracelet and heart weighing me down like a brick in water.

I’m debating whether to bolt or stay when a woman’s voice says, “Hello there.”

I spin on my heels, trying to look nonchalant. Definitely not as if I’ve been sneaking about. A woman with sandy-blond hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of her neck stands at the entrance to the kitchen. She’s wearing khaki pants and a purple wrap sweater. A large rock necklace rests against her chest. I wonder if it’s as ancient as most of the items in this house.

“You must be Jae,” she says, smiling a warm smile. “I’m Marc’s mom. I’m so happy to finally meet you. Come, let me make you a cup of tea.”

I follow her into the kitchen. She pulls out a traditional celadon tea set and prepares black tea for both of us. As I watch, I can’t help but notice she’s the one Marc got his green eyes and dimple from.

“So you and Marc have been hanging out lately?” she asks.

I’ve no idea what I should tell her. Actually, all I really want to do is leave and forget about talking to Dr. Grayson, because
I’m not sure who to trust anymore. I’m guessing either Marc or Grandfather told the Graysons about me and maybe even about the whole Haemosu thing. After hearing Dr. Grayson talk about me like that to Marc, I can hardly think straight.

“Well,” she continues as if I’ve answered her question, “I think it’s great. Marc needs a challenge in his life, and this is the perfect opportunity.”

I swallow, trying to process her words. “Opportunity?”

We stare at each other for a moment. She takes a sip of her tea, then says, “He’s tutoring you, right?”

Before I have a chance to dig myself into a giant hole, Marc and his dad join us.

“Great!” Marc’s dad says. “The two of you have gotten a chance to meet. Jae, Marc here was telling me you had some questions about metamorphosis that he thinks I can help you with.”

My eyes dart to Marc. He told his dad?

“It’s okay,” Marc says, grabbing an apple from the basket on the counter. “You can trust him.”

My eyes dart between Marc and his dad. Neither seems upset, so I’m not really sure what to think. This is something Marc and I need to talk about later. Still, what is there to talk about? It’s not as if we’re dating or anything. It’s not even like we’ll have a long-term relationship.

“Would you be comfortable coming to my office?” Dr. Grayson asks. “Marc will come with us, of course.”

Dr. Grayson’s office looks more like a giant library than an office. It’s two stories high, completely lined with wooden bookshelves. A wooden ladder is connected to a track to reach the
higher shelves. Instead of a traditional desk, a giant oval table with four stools sits in the center of the room. Two couches are situated beneath the large windows.

Dr. Grayson sits on one of the stools. He presses a button, and a panel pulls back in the center of the table. A computer screen rises, and Dr. Grayson punches in a password.

“Do sit.” He gestures for us to join him. Once we’re situated, he asks, “So you found my article on metamorphosis?”

“Yes, I did.” I rack my brain for a reason why I would be asking about something crazy like this. “I’m doing a report on Korean mythology in class.”

He nods as if this is the most interesting thing he’s ever heard.

“You seem to know so much about it,” I say, relieved that he bought my explanation. “Where did you get your information from?”

“Lots of old texts.” He waves his hand as if it’s inconsequential. “Nothing you teenagers would be interested in.”

Marc huffs but doesn’t say anything.

“So are only certain types of creatures able to do this change?”

“I’m not completely sure. But the myths that talk about transformation only indicate gods and demigods with this ability. These immortals use the power in battle and impersonate other humans or animals. The Fox Sister fairy tale, where a
kumiho
shape-shifts into a human girl, comes to mind.”

Dr. Grayson clicks on a file. The myth of the fox-tailed woman pops onto the screen.

“So it seems like it’s pretty easy to do,” I say. It isn’t for me, but maybe that’s because I’m not immortal. Maybe I’m not meant to shape-shift.

“It appears to be a part of who they are. Even so, it takes complete concentration, focus, and skill to maintain the transformation.”

“Are there side effects?”

“There aren’t any mentioned in the myths. It appears that the key is remembering who you are so you can switch back. If you can maintain that mental control, then you’ve found what’s needed to sustain the shift. Not
you
, of course, but the immortals.”

“Of course. That’s really helpful. Thanks.”

“We’ve got to go, Dad,” Marc says. “Jae needs to get home.”

“Excellent,” Dr. Grayson says with a bow of his head. “Until another time.”

I smile, thinking how incredibly formal his dad is. Maybe that’s all his conversation with Marc was about earlier. Maybe he’s just old-fashioned.

As I get up to leave, I glance at the ceiling. It’s domed, and in the center of it is a giant mural. I stare at it, shaken.

The Tiger of Shinshi.

Is it coincidental that my aunt, Grandfather, and Marc’s dad all have that same painting in their homes? I stop cold at the door as something else tickles my memory.

“You okay?” Marc asks.

I turn and reach out my hand to Dr. Grayson. “It was great talking to you.”

“Of course,” Dr. Grayson stands, his eyebrows raised, and he shakes my hand.

My heart skips a beat. Because I was right. He’s wearing the same tiger ring as Grandfather and Komo.

This isn’t a coincidence at all.

The next day I head to Komo’s house after school because I’m still hoping she’s thought of a way to keep me alive. What will she think about Haemosu being able to suck me into his world through my locker? And how I morphed into a bird?

I am alive, but I haven’t escaped Haemosu’s vengeance. Because another dragon’s eye has turned red.

Marc acts as if everything is okay. I want to believe him. But Haemosu did something to Marc; I’m sure of it. I trail my fingers over my lips, remembering Marc’s touch, his kiss.

It takes only thirty minutes to get to Komo’s house by subway. I call Dad and tell him I’m going to hang out with her.

The truth is, I’m falling way behind in school. Third-quarter grades are only a month away, and I’m sure I’m failing everything because I’m spending my nights training rather than studying. But why worry about grades if I may not even live to see them?

I ride the escalator out of the subway and onto the busy street. I smell
hotteok
, and my stomach rumbles. Other than the
bowl of
japchae
I ate for lunch, I haven’t eaten anything all day.

Michelle texts me, asking when our movie date will be. I text back, promising tomorrow night.

When you don’t know how long you have to live, you have to live as if every second counts.

I detour to the wooden cart where a lady drops little balls of stuffed batter into a cast iron pan. She presses the balls flat with her spatula, letting them fizz in the grease until golden. I hand over one thousand won, and she passes me a hot pancake, a piece of wax paper wrapped around it to keep my fingers from getting sticky. I lick the fried edge and take a bite that tastes of sugar and cinnamon. I smile.