The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(20)

Lifting the candle, he blows out the flame. The scents of smoke and plum blossoms fill the balmy air.

My heart beats rapidly in my chest. The silence stretches interminably. When I can’t bear it any longer, I peer around the screen. He’s gone. The room is as empty as before.

No, there’s one difference: The birdcage now sits on the low shelf. The magpie shuffles its wings, excited by my presence. This isn’t the time to hesitate. Quickly I bound across the room, reaching for the cage.

“I thought I sensed a thief.”

I twist around. Shin leans against the frame of the doorway. His dark hair, slightly damp, is swept back from his face. He must have come from the bathhouse. He’s changed from when I last saw him, wearing black silk robes, the collar edged with lotus flowers embroidered in silver thread. His sword is strapped to his waist.

“I’m impressed,” he says, watching me through half-lidded eyes. “You are blessed with luck to have made it this far.”

“Funny, I feel like luck has escaped me all night.”

He frowns. “I can’t see your lips from here. I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Just because you can’t hear the words doesn’t mean they’re not being said.”

He straightens and steps past the threshold. “I don’t think a bride has ever given me as much trouble as you have.”

“What about Hyeri? From what I hear, you lost a match to her intended. Did it hurt your pride, to be thwarted by a human?”

His eyes narrow. “You’re still speaking.”

“It’s your own fault that you can’t hear me. Anyhow, it’s better this way. If you knew what I was saying, you would not be pleased.”

He approaches from across the room, stepping into the moonlight before me. I feel a tick of annoyance, reminded again of the differences in our height. My eyes are level with the intricate threadwork of lotus flowers on his collar. We stand so close, I can see the pulse beating steadily in his neck. I can smell the fresh scent of his robes, a blend of lavender, mint, and sandalwood.

“Speak your offenses,” he says, “now that I can see you clearly.”

He’s so close to me, I feel my cheeks releasing a telltale blush. I grit my teeth and lift my chin. “You are the real thief here.”

There’s a pause as he puzzles out the words from my lips. Then he says, speaking so softly I have to strain to hear him, “I should have known that you wouldn’t give up so easily.” His eyes flit over my shoulder to the birdcage.

I know what happens next. I’ll be thrown out of Lotus House, as I was at the palace, all chances of retrieving my soul lost. Stepping forward, I draw his gaze back to me.

“Let me help you,” I say.

I can admit now that I had misjudged him at our first meeting. His actions, while misguided, were in service to the Sea God. If I can somehow convince him that my actions are also in service to the god, he could be an ally to me—a strong one, if the vastness of his house and the loyalty of his people are any indication.

His eyes move from my lips to my eyes. “There is nothing you can do that can help me.”

I take a breath. “You were right about sensing thieves.” I watch him watch my lips, his frown deepening as he sees what I have to say. “I saw two enter one of the rooms below. One is large, bearlike. The other is short, but … more dangerous, I think. Perhaps they want to hurt you for something you stole from them. Just like I want to hurt you for what you’ve stolen from me.” I can’t help adding this last bit.

“Why should I trust what you have to say?”

Outside in the hall, there’s a creak.

“Because I want your help in return.”

His eyes leave my lips to hold my gaze.

Soft, almost silent footsteps draw near, belonging to many more people than the two I’d seen below.

It’s my turn to read his lips.

Hide, he mouths, nodding toward the paper screen. I move back into my previous position, crouching low.

The door crashes open.

Feet pound against the floor as opponents rush through, circling the room. I scramble back as the screen moves, pushed from the other side. My knees knock against the paper. A heavy silence descends over the room, thick with tension.

Then there’s the slow glide of steel as Shin draws his sword. A shout goes up, and the gang of thieves surges forward. The whole room erupts into chaos. Steel clashes against steel. Low grunts and cries of pain fill the air. I grip my knife, unsure whether to remain hidden or join the fight. I can’t differentiate Shin’s voice from the rest, if he’s wounded, if he needs my help. Something large topples over, banging against the floor—the cabinet. A spray of blood splatters across the paper screen, like ink on canvas.

The magpie lets out a cry of distress. Standing, I step from behind the screen.

The floor is littered with the bodies of a dozen or so men. Only two intruders remain standing. They face off with Shin, including the bearlike man from earlier.

“Lord Shin!” he calls out, one hand pressing down a wound at his shoulder. “You serve a weak and thankless master. Lend your strength to our lord and you will be rewarded.”

Shin stands by the window, his sword at his side. Even after so unequal a fight, he appears composed, his back straight and face expressionless. Then I notice the blood trickling down his wrist. He’s hurt. “And whom,” he says, his voice low, “do you serve?”