The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(48)

Namgi peers at the empty market, then glances behind us to the deserted street. His brow furrows, and he reaches for his sword at his waist.

Suddenly all around us falls a heavy curtain of darkness, as if a cloak were thrown over the stars.

I look up and scream. Above us, forked tongue lashing out, is a monstrous sea snake.





21


“Mina, watch out!” Namgi pushes me to the side, then leaps out of the way as the sea snake whips its tail downward, piercing the cobblestones where we were standing. Namgi’s the first to scramble to his feet. He races across the street toward me, but the snake lashes its tail to the side, catching and hurling him against a building.

“Namgi!” I scream, rushing forward.

“Stay back!” Namgi shouts. He lifts his face, and I stumble to a halt. The irises of his eyes are bleeding outward, black creeping over the white. A shadow falls over his body, obscuring his features. His shape darkens and warps, then begins to elongate. Spears of darkness shoot out from his body, and a terrible, in-human cry roars from within the shadowy depths.

Above, the sea snake grows agitated, lashing its tail back and forth. I leap behind a crumbled wall to avoid a blow that would sever my spirit from my body.

Sounds of battle crash from across the market, where more Imugi converge upon Shin and Kirin.

Abruptly Namgi’s roar cuts off. I whip my head in his direction. Slivers of shadow drift from his body like smoke from a fire. Where the curly-haired boy once was lies a great sea snake coiled upon itself. With a low rumble, its long, sinuous body begins to unwind and stretch, reaching its full, incredible length. Black and red scales flicker in the torchlight.

The words Namgi spoke to me while strolling through the market ring in my ears. In my soul form, I am a powerful water snake. Like a dragon, but without its magic. Yet Namgi’s soul form appears different from the Imugi that hovers above us, with its serpentlike features, slitted nostrils, and red eyes. Namgi’s features are that of a dragon. He has a narrower snout and smooth, glimmering scales. His eyes are his own, a deep black with that ever-present spark of mischief.

Raising his head, Namgi lets out a harrowing cry. Red light crawls up his throat and erupts from his mouth in black fire, catching the enemy Imugi in its blast. Namgi takes to the air, rising as if lifted by the wind itself. The two Imugi collide, snapping their powerful jaws. Namgi’s teeth shred through the smaller snake’s brittle skin. Fat droplets of viscous blood drip from great wounds, sizzling upon impact with the earth.

My attention is diverted from the battle by the sharp sound of something fast approaching, a whizzing in the air. On instinct I duck. The bolt of a crossbow flies over my head, lodging in a wooden plank. Atop a roof across the street, a figure crouches—the weasel-like thief from the first night. He meets my gaze with a sneer, looking smug even though he missed.

Then I remember his partner, the bearlike thief. Arms wrap around my neck, hauling me off the ground and dragging me backward into the shadows of a building. I claw at the viselike grip, but my attacker’s strength is too great. I struggle to breathe, my arms weakening, my vision blackening at the edges.

Suddenly the bearlike thief releases me, howling with pain. I twist around to catch a blurred glimpse of Mask leaping from his back, where she’s embedded a knife to the hilt.

“Come, Mina,” she shouts, grabbing my hand. We sprint through a maze of streets. Above us, Namgi and his brethren fight in a vicious battle.

Every now and then I see a face peeking from behind a window, quickly closing shut as Mask and I hurtle past. When we’ve run far enough, Mask darts into a building, pulling me in with her.

I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. We’re in a pawnshop, the narrow shelves packed with an assortment of items—pottery, paper, and even firecrackers stuffed into woven baskets. Mask hurries over to a barrel and pulls out two daggers.

She hands one to me, the blade twice the length of my knife. “Do you know how to use this?”

“A little,” I say, testing the weight of it in my hand. “My grandmother taught me.”

Mask smiles at that, her eyes squinting through the holes of the mask. The pattering of feet on the street outside gives a short warning before Dai hurries into the room, Miki on his back.

“Are you all right, Mina?” he says. “Is she all right, Mask?”

“She’s fine. And I’m fine, too, thank you for asking!”

Miki stares at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.

“It’s dangerous for you two to be here,” I say. Miki might be an infant, but Dai’s just a child himself. “For now, go hide.”

Dai doesn’t argue. He moves to the corner at the back of the shop, crouching down and humming a soft lullaby when Miki starts to whimper. Together, Mask and I pile baskets in front of the children to conceal them from view.

Across the shop the Red String of Fate flutters, curving to the left. Like Namgi, Shin and Kirin must be engaging with the Imugi. My stomach twists, fear like a dagger, to think of Shin fighting against those monstrous beasts.

There’s a loud crash at the front of the store. The light of a lantern sweeps over the dark interior of the shop.

“Little bird,” the voice of the bearlike thief croons. “For running away, you’ve earned a slow death. Your friend, an even slower one.”

Once the thieves meant to steal my soul. Now the bear and the weasel are assassins, meant to snuff me out entirely.