IGMS Issue 32 (7 page)

Ori's heart was still beating from the scream.

"Mistress
Mudang
," he said, "it appears we are not alone."

"We rarely are."

Jwi wandered back in his direction, so Ori brushed her shoulder just to let her know where he was. She leaned into his touch.

"Mistress
Mudang
," he began, voicing a thought that nagged him like a summer fly. "You phrased yourself very carefully before. Would it not be possible to push her back through from the
other
side?"

Her face turned thoughtful again. It was an endearing expression, one that perhaps made Ori feel closer to her than was proper. "You're willing to die for her?" she challenged him. "Even though she is quite alive now, and her contribution to the surrounding villages could be considerable. We will not house or feed her if she can no longer see through the veil, you realize. Nor can you, if you're dead."

Dying for her. He'd meant to phrase it as a question, but the
mudang
was right, he was offering. Perhaps foolishly.

"Simpler, then," she pressed when he hesitated. "You would die for her?"

Know her or not, Ori had nothing left besides Jwi. Perhaps he had been lying to himself that he never considered what manner of wife she would make, even now. And if there was a chance, however slim, then his duty compelled him to take it, didn't it?

While Ori considered, Jwi tried to pull him off in some direction, but he held her hand firm. Now she looked quizzically in his direction, and then back at the space where she'd bowed. "Let go of me, then," she said, turning her back to him, inviting him to write an explanation.

Ori couldn't stand to lose anyone else, not again. But that wasn't the whole of it -- for the first time in his life, he was in the position to save another person, rather than the other way around. And besides, Jwi was curious and optimistic. Life still had meaning for her. Whereas Ori was just . .  . empty.

"Yes," Ori answered the mistress.

"I doubt you can keep your feet on the other side of the veil and hope to push her through to this side," she mused. "However, if you reached her on the spirit side and pulled her back through the veil
along with yourself
. It could perhaps be done if you died . . . but only briefly. And if I am wrong, at least I would have succeeded in getting rid of you." The mistress smiled wryly. "Are you willing to try?"

Jwi shoved Ori playfully, since he still hadn't let her go.

"I am, yes," he answered, regaining his footing.

"I see. It is an herb I am thinking of. If I describe it to you, you can find it for me. The correct infusion will slow your heart to nearly, but not quite, stopping."

Ori bowed at the waist, pulling Jwi down with him. "Thank you, mistress. You are eternally wise."

"But consider the consequences of your decision first."

"I will consider them truly . . . while I search."

Ori didn't set out immediately. He allowed himself to sleep briefly while Jwi did the same. Then he fed her. This involved pressing the rim of a soup bowl to her mouth and encouraging her to tip it down her throat. The first time he tried this was the only time he'd seen her truly afraid. Even food was invisible to her; how does one reconcile that? Jwi chewed obediently, but then held her nose as she forced it down her throat.

After eating she requested privacy by telling him to go away and then waving her arms around to convince herself he wasn't near. (He saw as he left, but leave he did.) Ori could have simply departed to search for the herb then, but he chose to wait. By the time Jwi sought him out, the day had waxed into early evening and both the sun and the moon shared the horizon. So Ori wrote a description of the leaves onto Jwi's back, curious whether plant life bridged their opposing worlds.

So they looked together, while Jwi tirelessly commented on all of the spirits that they passed on their way. Silver dragonflies skimming the surface of a pond distracted her. A giant toad, she insisted, exhaled the breeze that Ori felt on his cheek. The spirit world was apparently an active place -- and undoubtedly a dangerous one as well.

Ori did heed the mistress's warning. He noticed how content Jwi seemed just as she was. Most importantly, she had a place in this world. Ori had spent too much of his own life feeling like a
Baduk
stone on a chess board. But Ori's conviction still held: spirits were not to be trusted. Wasn't it a restless spirit that had stolen Jwi in the first place, probably on nothing more than a whim? What might they do to one who peeked into their secret world? No, leaving her like this was not an option.

Perhaps Ori was too distracted by his thoughts, because it was Jwi who spotted the plant after he'd nearly stepped over it. So plants did cross through the veil. Since Ori still hadn't convinced himself that this was a bad idea, he plucked plenty of the yellow-speckled leaves. Then he yanked up the whole root, just to be sure.

The young
mudang
Kyung-mi knelt before Ori, cradling his steaming death in both hands. He wished she wouldn't be so formal about it. He opened his mouth to thank her, but couldn't find the words. He was going to die today. Briefly or no.

The sun had set by now. The two
mudang
were motionless gaps in the darkness while Jwi fidgeted with one bare foot upon the other, apt to wander off if he didn't act soon.

"Mistress," Ori addressed her straight-backed shadow, "will I be able to see Jwi from the other side of the veil?"

"I wonder."

That was, of course, if his spirit didn't simply keep drifting straight to the kingdom of the dead, where deceased humans belonged. Their plan was speculation driven by desperation; the details hardly seemed to matter. Even if he couldn't see her, she'd be able to see and hear him, and he'd call to her and pray she listened.

The mistress advised him, "The leaves would have been more potent after a rain, so I steeped them in hotter water. If you trust my judgment, then drink. If you seek my opinion, I would not trust anyone's judgment on this matter. But as it is your choice, then drink if you will."

Ori nodded and drained the tea in one gulp. It was exactly as bitter as he would expect poison to be. Some moments passed, enough to worry that it wasn't sufficient, but then gradually a fist formed in his stomach and needles pricked his fingers and toes. His body felt profoundly wrong, and he knew that this was right.

When Ori opened his eyes again, he didn't feel as if he were waking so much as slipping into a deeper trance. He knew intuitively that he had crossed through the veil. Moonlight filled the room with none of the warmth of the sun against his skin.

The spirit world. A tawny cat picked its way across the ceiling on gecko feet. An iridescent beetle landed on Ori's sleeve. He noticed that the walls of the temple itself existed on either side of the veil, perhaps because it was so ancient, but all of its inner contents were invisible to him, including the
mudang
.

Ori turned his head and spotted ghosts: two of them, a man and a boy, huddled together like a family. Perhaps they were who Jwi bowed to. They belonged in the kingdom of the dead, yet here they lingered, watching Ori curiously.

"Honorable ancestors," he greeted them.

As soon as he spoke, he was distracted by movement at the end of the room. The movement was Jwi, probably hearing his voice. She looked insubstantial as fog -- her body made only a faint impression against the moonlight behind her -- but nonetheless, Ori could see her. She seemed to be saying something.

"I cannot hear you," he told her. "Touch your palms together if you can hear me."

She touched her palms, but distractedly as she looked all around. This time he read her lips as she said, "
Oppa
."

"Your
oppa
isn't here. Jwi, please listen carefully to me."

After a moment's more frantic hand waving, she remembered herself and bowed to Ori. He was, after all, her betrothed.

Being dead, however temporarily, Ori had no need of breath, and this gave him the eerie impression that time stood still. Yet a tension deep in his muscles reminded him that his body yet had a claim on his spirit. He couldn't keep this up for long and hope to return.

He talked quickly. "Place your trust in me a moment. I am not truly dead, I have a chance to return to my body. Allow me to hold onto you and do your best to hold onto me, and if the gods are merciful, I will be able to pull you back through the veil."

But Jwi looked reluctant, and he instantly understood why: she didn't want to leave her
oppa
behind in the spirit world.

He took a step forward anyway and she took a step back, visibly agitated and talking quickly. He saw that he had no choice but to explain. "Your
oppa
has already passed beyond to the kingdom of the dead. Jwi,
I
was the one looking after you. It was always me. I'm sorry."

What more was he to say? But just then -- already -- Ori felt his living chest inflate with hot air. He panicked and lunged for Jwi lest he leave her behind, but she fell backward out of his reach. With the moonlight shining through her cheeks, Ori couldn't miss the fear and disgust smeared across her features.

Coming back to life was far more painful than leaving it. Ori's chest burned and his limbs were blanketed in thorns. Somehow, though, he resisted it. He stared into the moonlight and willed it not to fade; acknowledged his body only enough to force the breath back out of his lungs.

Time was a tricky thing to gauge when straddling death. But eventually, at some point during the same night, Ori planted his feet under him in the spirit world once more.

Jwi was gone, though.

He looked and found the two ghosts huddled there still. "Did you see which way the young girl went?" he implored them. But they both shook their heads, looking simultaneously fascinated and confused.

Ori fled outside through the open wall, into the bright night, calling Jwi's name.

He should have anticipated her reaction, he realized. He had thought himself clever, devising a method of communication and providing Jwi a sense of security at the same time. She had practically handed him the opportunity when she asked for her
oppa
; it was as if the spirits had whispered the solution into his ear. But in the end, by bringing her brother back to life for her, he had only managed to kill him all over again.