Gilded (23 page)

Read Gilded Online

Authors: Christina Farley

“This is all
my
fault,” I say. “I should’ve let him take me. Then she’d be safe.”

“This is the first time he has broken out of his usual path.” Grandfather’s eyes are wild with fear and anger. I have never seen him like this. “It is impossible, but he was here at nightfall. He no longer requires light to empower him. This means only one thing. None of us is safe. All the old rules we held on to mean nothing! I must find out how he is getting this kind of power. Jae Hwa”—he cups my face between his hands—“time is of the essence. Your father might be next.”

A calmness settles over me as if I’ve stepped out of my body, and I know what I must do. “Then I’ll hunt down Haemosu and stop him before he gets the chance.”

“No.” Grandfather clutches me tighter. “This is for me alone. You must convince your father to escape the country. I need you
to take me to the clinic. Then tomorrow night I will get the amulet, enter the Spirit World, and put an end to this forever.”

I stare at the pool of blood where Komo had been. “Okay,” I say.

I don’t tell him the truth. That there’s no way I’m going to let him sacrifice his life for me. Not over my dead body.

 

I skip the elevator and instead huff up the stairs to the ninth floor of our apartment building. My hand trembles as I push my finger over the scanner to unlock our apartment door. When it finally releases, I shove the door open.

“Dad!” I yell out as I enter.

I want to believe he’ll be home, lying on the couch watching TV, but part of me is already freaking out that Haemosu has taken him, too.

“Jae Hwa,” Dad calls over the noise on the TV.

He’s lounging on the couch, woolly socked feet propped up on two unpacked boxes. His tie is loose, and his top two buttons are undone. I sink onto the couch next to him and allow my breathing to return to normal.

Dad’s fine. Happy. Watching TV.

“Did you work out?” Dad says, pushing the
MUTE
button. “You sound out of breath, like you’ve been running.”

“Running. Yes. I went for a long run.”

“Your time with Komo go well?”

My mind is filled with visions of blood, barred teeth, and swirling wind.

Komo has been—

I can’t think about it. Can’t even
believe
it. I push my fingers against my eyelids to stop the tears, stop the images flashing before me.

Dad sits up. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s—she’s gone. He took her. Just like he did the others.”

Dad’s forehead creases. “What are you talking about?”

“Haemosu
took
Komo.”

Dad is silent for a moment. “Is this the same Haemosu that your grandfather keeps talking about?”

“Don’t you get it?” I jump up and start pacing the room. “We need to get out of here! Like
now
.”

“Jae. You need to calm down.” Dad stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “What has gotten into you?”

“You don’t believe me!” My throat constricts.

He stands up, his jaw set. “This is about going back to L.A., isn’t it?”

“No! I mean, yes!”

“Eun has been talking about this nonsense with you, hasn’t she? I strictly forbade her to bring you into any of this. That was our agreement when she wanted to see you.”

When I don’t answer him right away he says, “I knew it.”

I say, “Call her. Now.”

He raises his eyebrows and pulls out his phone, punching in the numbers. His hands are shaking, and I suspect that a part of him believes me. “This kind of insanity is exactly what I was worried about. She’s got your mind all twisted with her ideas.”

I rub my palms up and down my jeans until they burn as Dad puts the phone to his ear.

“Eun,” Dad says. “How are you?”

I stand frozen. My head feels stuffy, as if it’s full of cotton. “She’s there?”

Dad nods, but continues to talk into the phone. “Uh huh. Yes. I was calling because Jae Hwa is worried about you. Are you hurt?” Pause. “Okay.” Dad sits back on the couch. “Good. You need to stop encouraging her with this Haemosu nonsense. It’s not healthy.” He pauses. “So you agree? Good. Good. Here, talk some sense into her.”

He hands me the phone. “Your aunt is fine. She said she cut her finger.”

Cut her finger! I snatch the phone. “Komo?”

“Ah, my princess,” a deep male voice says.
Haemosu.
My heart shrivels. “Truly I am enjoying our courtship. So much that I’d hate for it to end.”

The phone drops from my fingers, clattering onto the wooden floor. The colors of the room wash away as I sink to the ground. Haemosu is one step ahead of me. Always one
freaking
step ahead!

Dad is saying something to me, but I only hear buzzing. Somehow I manage to stumble my way to my room. The punching bag becomes my sole focus. I ignore Dad’s knocking, pleading to talk. All I can think about is the bag and my pent-up anger.

An hour later I’m sweaty, and my fists ache when I finally lie flat on the floor. I can’t stop worrying about Komo. Is she okay?
Did Haemosu take her to that awful palace? The thought makes me so sick I race to the bathroom and throw up.

I splash water over my face and stare into the mirror. Dark shadows circle my eyes, and my hair is wild and snarled.

I will find a way to rescue Komo.

There must be something in the ancient stories that Grandfather and Komo overlooked, some secret way to outwit the monster. Back in my bedroom I pull out the dragon horn bow Grandfather gave me and rub my palm over its wooden surface.

Everyone has a weakness. Even a demigod. I will find Haemosu’s, hunt him down, and use it against him.

The next morning I drag my feet down the school hallway, hoping the cream and saline has erased the puffiness from around my eyes. I even used powder to hide the flush on my face. Too many tears. Too little sleep. My only motivation for crawling out of bed was the hope that I’d encounter Haemosu.

Tonight I’m supposed to meet Grandfather at the museum at 7 p.m. to steal the amulet. Which means I’ve got to figure out a way to get the amulet before then. There’s no way I’m letting Grandfather face Haemosu for me. Komo had. And now she’s gone.

I stop short, swallowing the lump in my throat. The hallway fades, the light blurs like the headlights of a car, and Komo’s face fills my vision.

Her words rush to me: “Take control of your mind; harness your strength.”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

“You can,” she says.

Then she’s gone as if someone has clicked off the headlights. I’m sandwiched between streams of kids, shoving their way to lockers and classes. My stomach knots up, and there’s a tugging at my chest; but I will my feet to move. Komo isn’t the only person haunting me. Haemosu dangles in the forefront of my mind. And every time I look at the bracelet I am reminded of him.

“I brought you a gift.” Michelle hands me a coffee cup as she falls in stride with me. “Vanilla latte. Extra hot and extra whipped cream.”

I take a sip. It tastes like hot water.

“Did he give that to you?” Michelle asks, pointing to my bracelet.

“What?”
How does she know about Haemosu?

“You know. Marc. He’s totally crushing on you.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” The lies keep piling up. I’ve reached my locker and stare at it. I haven’t touched the door since yesterday’s episode with Haemosu. The thought of it sends my pulse racing. But I need my Chinese textbook.

My translation of the legend of Haemosu and Princess Yuhwa is tucked away in that Chinese textbook. I want to work on it some more, look for clues I haven’t seen before. If only I wasn’t so hopeless when it came to Chinese.

Michelle touches the gold bracelet before I can stop her. She immediately jerks her hand back. “Ouch!” she cries. “What’s up with your bracelet?”

Just Haemosu’s little way of saying “Hands off!”
I want to say, but I don’t and instead pull my sleeve over my wrist. “Nothing. Probably static electricity.”

“Oh.” And to my surprise I think she buys my outrageous lie. “Don’t forget about our movie night,” Michelle says. “Lily is coming, too.”

“Crap. I totally forgot about that. Can we do it another time? I need to see my grandfather.”

“You can’t be serious.”

I grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“This is getting old, Jae. You promise you’ll hang out, but you never do. It’s always one excuse or another.”

“I know.” I close my eyes, my head pounding even louder than before. My life sucks.

“So why are you staring at your locker? Did you forget your combination or something?”

“No. I’m just reviewing my Chinese symbols in my head before class.” And although it isn’t true, I really should be since IB Korean is kicking my butt. Yep. I’m going to fail. All those times I’d hated studying. Now it’s all I wish I could do. Curled up on my
yo
with my textbook, drinking a cup of hot chocolate, not a care in the world.

I spin the combination for my locker. My hands shake.

“I don’t know why you torture yourself like that by taking advanced Korean,” she says, leaning against the locker next to mine. “If you didn’t spend so much time on that class, you could be hanging out with us.”

“Tell me about it.”

Komo and I hoped to find a clue in the ancient texts to save me. How am I supposed to get help now that she’s gone? She had become the closest person to a mom for me. It was Komo who was looking out for me. Protecting me.

I can’t wait to see Haemosu again. I’ll show him how my punch feels, how nice my foot looks imprinted on his handsome face.

“Listen, if you don’t want to be friends, I get it,” Michelle says. “But I’m tired of tiptoeing around you. I helped hook you up with Marc, and now you’re too busy for me. Or were you just using me to get Marc?”

My eyes widen. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then what’s your problem? You’ve got a great guy who has the hots for you, and you’re acting like the world has ended.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Maybe my life isn’t as flipping fantastic as it appears.”

“Testy, are we?” Michelle shifts her books and eyes our classroom door. “Are you going to open your locker already or what? We’ve got like fifty-five seconds until the late bell rings.”

A hand reaches over my shoulder, pushing to keep my locker door closed. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

It’s Marc.

My heart skips, and his touch melts the tension in my shoulders. We haven’t talked since yesterday; and on so many levels I wish we were two normal kids falling in love, without immortals, magic lands, and excess baggage from a thousand years ago. I say, “No. But I should.”

Our eyes meet. Mine saying “I need this.” His saying “Bad idea.”

I pull the metal lever up and swing the door open, holding my breath.

There’s no golden light. No hidden world. Just my books
sprawled on the shelf with a plastic container of half-eaten
kim
and Tae Kwon Do pictures taped to the door. Marc runs his hands through his hair and lets out a chuckle. “You sure know how to start a day, Fighter Girl.”

I breathe again, snatch up my books—all of them—and stuff them into my backpack. It’s full, so I decide to carry my bio and Korean textbooks.

Michelle stops studying her split ends. “You’re moving back to L.A., aren’t you? Is that what this is all about?”

“No.” I swing my backpack over my shoulder. It’s heavy. “I just think it’s best to be prepared and study for all my classes each night.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to you later,” Michelle says. “Or not. You decide.”

“Michelle,” I say to her retreating back. She’s upset, and I don’t know how to fix it. “It’s not what you think.”

“She’ll get over it,” Marc says.

“What if she doesn’t?” I ask. What if that’s the last time we ever talk again, and I’ve completely ruined our friendship because I couldn’t tell her the truth?

“Let me help you,” Marc says, his gaze as tight as a drawn arrow, and I realize he’s not just talking about the books.

The bell rings. We’re late.

I open my mouth to say yes but find myself shaking my head. No. How selfish am I even to think of risking his life? Marc, Grandfather, and Dad. I must keep them safe from Haemosu.

Now it’s Marc’s turn to shake his head, but I leave him and race down the hallway toward class.

“I’m fluent in Chinese!” he yells over the rush of everyone dashing into class.

I freeze. What can that boy
not
do? He must have overheard us talking. I glance back at him before stepping into English. He’s still staring at me, the hallway now empty, with his lips in a half smile. Impossible.

“After school?” I say.

“Coffee shop. At the bottom of the hill.”

I nod and slip inside class, promising myself this will be nothing more than a quick Chinese lesson. I definitely, absolutely won’t let him get involved.

 

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