The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(19)

At this, Kirin growls, “Such insolence should not be allowed. Lord Shin is too forgiving.”

When the guard doesn’t respond in kind, Kirin demands, “What is it? You look as if you wish to speak.”

She hesitates, then says, “There have been rumors circulating among the guests that the Sea God’s power is waning, and so is Lord Shin’s. Less than a year ago, he was defeated by Shiki, their friendship broken irreparably. Without such a staunch and powerful ally, many believe Lord Shin’s role as guardian of this city is at an end. And the Sea God, without Lord Shin to protect him…”

The guard’s voice fades as she and Kirin move away from the tree. Keeping low to the ground, I follow, curious to hear more of their conversation. When I catch up, however, it’s only to find Kirin voicing his dismissal.

“Tell the others to keep their eyes open. I wouldn’t put it past Crane or Tiger to stir up trouble tonight.”

She bows, stepping backward. “Yes, my lord.” She leaves just as she arrived, appearing to blend into the darkness. Soon she’s a blur of movement at the corner of my eye.

Alone now, Kirin sighs, turning his gaze toward the pond. A lone heron sweeps over the water, the tip of its wing brushing the surface. “Protecting the Sea God is too much a burden to bear, even for you, Shin.”

I step back and a branch snaps beneath my foot. Immediately Kirin’s head turns, and I duck, wincing at my clumsiness. Through a gap in the foliage, I watch as Kirin peers into the forest. For a moment his eyes seem almost to glow a bright, burning silver, and then a squirrel leaps from the underbrush, skittering up the trunk of a tree. When I look back, Kirin’s eyes are brown once more.

Slowly he moves down the same path the guard took, toward the lake. When he’s safely out of sight, I step out from the trees and make my way across the bridge.

That unwelcome feeling from earlier steals back into my heart, that perhaps I misjudged Shin. I don’t yet have a complete understanding of the troubles of this realm, but they remind me of home, where because of a weak and spineless ruler, warlords squabble over land and shed blood because of petty grievances. It must be the same here. In the Sea God’s absence, the inhabitants of this realm, sensing a weakness, would try to upset the balance of power in their favor.

Then there’s Shin, who alone strives to hold back the tide. Like the people in my village. Like myself.

I shake my head, willing away the direction of my thoughts. Regardless if I feel sympathy for him, I have my own challenges, beginning with taking back my soul.

The pavilion is shrouded in darkness. If Nari hadn’t been so certain the magpie was being held here, I might have searched in a place more heavily guarded, not one that appears abandoned. I pull open the door, and the moonlight behind me floods across dark wood. On either side of a narrow hall are rooms, the shadows of clouds moving across the thick paper walls.

Just as I’m closing the door behind me, another slides open down the hall. I throw myself into a corner, hunkering in the shadows. Two figures dressed in black slip across the corridor. I only glimpse them for a moment—one thickset, a sword at his waist, the other skinny, weasel-like, carrying a large crossbow strung across his shoulder—before they disappear through the opposite door. Thieves?

Ironic, that they should steal from Shin, who stole from me. In all the stories, magpies warn of thieves.

Not tonight.

To my right, stairs lead upward. I climb them quickly, careful not to make a sound. At the top is another narrow hall, this one shorter than the one below. Only a single door is set in the wall. Inside, a sound stirs, like restless wings. The magpie! I slide open the door, step inside, and shut it behind me.

Eagerly I sweep my gaze over the room, only for my heart to sink. The magpie isn’t here. The source of the noise is a cool breeze rustling against the paper of the window. The room is sparsely furnished. A low shelf sits beneath the window opposite the door. Against the wall to the right is a worn cabinet, and to the left, the only other object in the room is a folding paper screen.

The magpie must be in one of the rooms below. But how to avoid the thieves?

I reach for my knife, gripping the handle. There’s a noise in the hall outside. Footsteps approaching. I rush to the screen and slip behind it, crouching low just as the door slides open.





9


A figure enters the room, holding a candle. The light of the flame casts his silhouette onto the paper screen. The intruder’s shadow matches neither of the men I saw below. It’s oddly shaped—a strange protrusion erupts from its back.

Suddenly, the shadow lengthens, the unmistakable stretch of wings unfurling, like those of a heavenly being. Or a demon. I press my back against the wall. Then a sound breaks the silence. A magpie’s gentle warble.

Shin.

Soundlessly he moves across the room, sliding the birdcage from his shoulder and placing it on the low shelf. How the Goddess of Fortune plays tricks with me tonight! First Namgi, then Kirin, and now Shin.

And the magpie. So close, I feel an echoing thump in my chest with every beat of its wings.

Shin’s shadow moves back across the room. He’s leaving without the magpie! My heart races with impending triumph.

But then he stops, as if he noticed something. I rack my brain for what might have caught his attention. I didn’t touch any of the furniture after entering the room. Did my footprints leave marks upon the floor?