The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(21)

The bear looks to answer, but his comrade hisses, “Don’t be fooled! He would have us reveal our master, only to kill us immediately after. Keep to the task we were given. The bird is our prize.”

I frown. Why are they after my soul?

Shin’s eyes flicker to where I stand, though neither of the men takes notice. With a roar, the bearlike man charges forward. Shin bends backward, and the sword skims above his throat. Moving with impossible speed, he grabs the shoulder of the other thief, stabbing him through the stomach; he slumps to the floor. The bear man, clearly stunned, drops his sword and rushes toward the door.

As he passes the threshold, moonlight glints off something in the far corner, cloaked in shadows. The weasel-like man with the crossbow. In the chaos, I’d forgotten about him.

He nocks a bolt, aiming its silver tip at Shin’s chest.

I don’t hesitate. I sprint across the room. Everything happens in a moment. I collide with Shin. The bolt from the crossbow whizzes over our heads, splintering the window. Thwarted, the weasel-like thief flees the room. As Shin and I fall together, we knock against the low shelf. The birdcage wobbles at the lip of the edge, then drops.

Time seems to stand still as it falls, fracturing upon impact with the floor and releasing the bird. The magpie flaps its red-tipped wings, letting out a shrill, piercing sound, before bursting in an explosion of light.

I flinch at its radiance. The darkness after the light is blinding, and the silence after the bird’s call is deafening.

Until I hear it.

My breath. Heavy and rasping.

Until I see it.

Spread between my hand and Shin’s is a bright red ribbon.

The Red String of Fate.

Our eyes meet.

“Oh no,” I say.

My voice comes out as clear as a chime.





10


Neither Shin nor I move as we stare at the Red String of Fate suspended between us. Shin’s the first to react. He reaches for his sword, plunging it downward. It passes through the string and lodges in the wooden floorboards. His gaze meets mine, a troubled look in his eyes. I try next, taking my knife and slicing in an upward motion. The Red String of Fate remains intact, almost cheerfully so—a bright, shimmering bond of light.

“How could this have happened?” Shin says, but his words are more to himself than to me.

I scramble to my feet, stepping onto the wooden splinters of the birdcage. “You said the magpie was my soul … Perhaps, when returning to me, it got tangled up with yours.” It’s the only explanation I can think of.

Shin shakes his head. “It’s not possible.”

I hold out my hand to where he still sits on the floor.

He raises a brow, his expression skeptical. “What are you doing?”

“Maybe if our hands touch, the Red String of Fate will come full circle and disappear. Our souls will return to us.”

He frowns. “That sounds … unlikely.”

I tap my foot. “We should try everything we can. When I reached out to the Sea God, for a moment it did disappear. That is, unless you’re afraid?”

As I intended, his expression changes, and I smile, feeling a bit smug. But then, as he moves to take my hand, I have a sudden thought—like I was with the Sea God, could I be drawn into his memories? Could he be drawn into mine?

A paper boat ripped in half. My sister-in-law in tears. My grandmother screaming my name as I ran and ran and ran …

He takes my hand in his strong grip. His skin is dry and warm.

Nothing happens. I see now the foolishness of my plan. Blushing, I move to extricate myself, but he doesn’t let go. I frown. “What are you—”

He yanks me forward, and I nearly fall to the floor. He moves quickly, shifting over me to catch my head with his other hand. For a moment I blink up at the ceiling, stunned. Then slowly he interlocks our fingers, increasing the pressure of his palm against my own. The Red String of Fate flares, as if we hold a burning star between us. I look up to see the light of the string, and my own startled face, reflected in his dark eyes.

“Well,” he drawls deliberately, “has your soul returned to you?”

And though I know he’s mocking me, my heart still stutters in my chest. He releases my hand just as Namgi dashes into the room, sword drawn.

“Shin!” he shouts. “I heard a commotion…” He trails off, his eyes alighting on Shin and me on the floor. He lowers his sword. “This is unexpected.”

Shin ignores him, rising to his feet. The Red String of Fate lengthens as he moves across the room, crouching to inspect one of the fallen thieves. “Their uniforms don’t bear insignia.”

“Who would dare attack Lotus House?” Namgi says loudly. “Tell me, and I will go and hunt them down, tear them limb from limb. Destroy their homes, their sons, their goats, if they have them—”

I interrupt his tirade. “Where were you a few minutes ago? Not drinking to excess, I hope.”

“Ah.” Namgi points at me. “You’ve got your voice back.”

Suddenly, Shin looks up from where he’s been crouching. “Namgi, do you not see it?”

Namgi cocks his head to the side. “See what?”

The ribbon floats in the air—red and glittering. Unmistakable.

I turn to Shin. “What does it mean that he cannot see it?”