Authors: Christina Farley
I lie on the ground, writhing, unable to get up. Have I lost already? My vision darkens, and that tingling, morphing sensation ripples through me once again. I’m shape-shifting back into a human. I try to pull myself up, try to stop the transformation, but I can’t focus.
You are hopeless against me,
the dragon says.
Then another voice speaks.
Rise up, Jae Hwa! Rise!
Those words snap my brain into focus. A rush of adrenaline surges through me. I can push through the pain. I will not let Haemosu win. I pump my wings and rocket up in the air, throwing myself into an aerial over his oncoming tail. He turns to fly at me.
It’s exactly what I expected him to do. Remembering the fire-breathing monster I had faced before, I twist around and ram my beak at his eye. He screeches in agony, fire flaming from his mouth. His scream is so loud, the buildings shake.
My wing has caught fire. I refuse to stop. I jam my beak into his other eye.
Haemosu flails and then drops to the ground in a heap, thrashing across the dirt. I fling myself to the ground, too, rolling across it to put out the fire on my wing. Pain shoots through me with such intensity that I can only think of the burn. But the pain gradually subsides, and by the time I’m back on my three clawed feet, it’s gone.
So this is what immortality is like,
I think.
Then it hits me: if I’m healing this quickly, so must Haemosu.
His head rises; I dive at him and rip apart the scales covering his heart with my diamond talons.
Then I close my eyes and focus on my own form. My body contorts and alters. A chill sweeps over me, then a racking twist.
I’m my human self again. I stagger and fall to the ground, gagging on bile. My body shakes and my vision shifts, but I must complete the task I know now I’m destined for. I reach out and mentally command the dragon bow and an arrow to come to me. They fly into my hand. I grind my teeth together to stop my trembling. I notch in the arrow, draw the string, and aim directly where the scales have been ripped away.
At Haemosu’s heart.
I let loose.
The arrow sails through the air and sinks into the dragon’s soft skin. He cries out and crumples into a heap at my feet. In a funnel of wind, Haemosu whirls back to his human form. His body turns pukish green.
So the legend of the Blue Dragon is true.
“Kud! Help me!” Haemosu cries out, his voice echoing across the palace grounds. “You promised this time it would work. You promised.”
I glance around, wondering why he’s crying out to the Immortal of Darkness. But no one else is here, just Haemosu and me. Haemosu moans and looks at me with glazed eyes.
“How could you, Yuhwa?” he asks. “You were the one. We were destined to be together forever. It was to be our wedding day, my princess.”
He stretches out his hand toward me. It shakes with the
effort. A light wind kicks up, and I look down to see I’m wearing a
hanbok
. The skirt is cherry red, with green and gold edging along the bottom. I reach up and touch a crown set where my hair is parted down the middle and pulled back into a bun. So this is Haemosu’s last act. Determined even in his final moments to make me his bride.
“I am not Yuhwa, and I will never be your bride,” I say, watching his body shrivel.
“So be it.” His words come out slow and shaky, and full of resentment. “But your aunt and ancestors will always be mine.”
“What did you say?” My heart begins to race because I know what he means. Komo and my ancestors are still trapped in that awful queen’s palace. Perhaps forever.
“Mine.” He grins painfully. “Always mine.”
A gargling sound emits from his throat, and his hand drops. His eyes grow wide, no longer dark but filmy white. His body stills.
I grab his tunic and shake his body. “Don’t you dare do this to me!” I yell. “Let them go. You have to let them go!”
But it’s too late. Haemosu’s skin fades to a pale white and crumbles into dust. A gust of wind sweeps past, catching up the dust, and carries it away. The dragon bracelet on my wrist breaks in half and falls to the ground. The skin underneath is chaffed and raw, but I’m free.
I sink to the ground, my red dress puffed up around me as I watch Haemosu’s ashes drift away.
I can’t believe that Haemosu has won.
Marc staggers toward me, supporting Grandfather, who is now conscious. Both their faces are ashen, and Grandfather’s eyes are wet.
“I am so proud of you, Jae Hwa,” Grandfather says. “You did what no other woman in our family history could do.”
Marc sits next to me, takes my hand, and squeezes it hard. “You did it.”
I stare at them. “Komo is in the queen’s palace, isn’t she?” When neither of them answers, I bury my head in my hands. The sobs pour out of me. It’s like Mom’s death all over again. I’m reliving it. The pain. The defeat. The emptiness.
“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.
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.
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.