The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(70)

“What about going back up the river?” Dai says. “Shim Cheong is whole of body and soul. If she made it all the way up the river, perhaps she could pop back into the world above.”

Mask shakes her head. “The current is too strong. And her body wouldn’t survive the passage.”

Seeing the expression on her face makes me wonder if I look like this when I’m thinking hard about something. I resist the urge to reach out and smooth the crease between her brows.

“In times of great peril,” Mask says, “a wish can be made on the dragon’s pearl.”

I feel a strange stirring in my heart. “A wish?”

“That’s right!” Dai shouts excitedly. “Now I remember. The pearl of a dragon is the source of its great power, and a wish upon one can make even the impossible come true.”

I think back to all the times I’ve seen the dragon—on the boat and in the garden, as it flew through the sky, and ferocious outside the palace.

“I’ve never seen the dragon with a pearl,” I say. Then I remember the mural on the wall of the Sea God’s hall. In the painting the dragon was drawn chasing a pearl through the sky.

“It’s possible the dragon lost its pearl,” Mask says, “which might be tied to the curse.”

“Or it was stolen,” Dai says grimly.

In the Sea God’s nightmare, he was wounded. Perhaps that was the moment the pearl was stolen.

“So if I retrieve the pearl and return it to the Sea God, the dragon will grant my wish?”

Dai and Mask exchange a glance.

“If it were so simple,” Dai says, “most everyone would be looking for a chance to make a wish.”

“Only someone the dragon loves very much can make a wish on the pearl,” Mask explains.

“Someone the dragon … loves?”

Mask nods. “The dragon and the Sea God are one and the same. The dragon is the Sea God’s soul. If the Sea God were to love another, that person would have the power to make a wish on the pearl. In the past, it was always the emperor who was beloved by the Sea God most of all. In times of great peril, it was said he could make a wish to change the world.”



* * *



In the main room, I meet up with Namgi, Kirin, and Shin, and tell them what I learned from my ancestors. Kirin and Shin look unsurprised to find out the real identities of the spirits who’ve been helping me, but Namgi appears satisfyingly shocked.

“You must make apologies to your great-great-grandmother for me, Mina,” he says sheepishly. “Tell her I didn’t mean half the things I said.”

“Namgi, aren’t most of the spirits here ancestors to someone or another? Every spirit you flirt with could be a grandparent.”

He groans. “Don’t remind me.”

With the knowledge from my ancestors, I know how to save Shim Cheong. Yet what seems simple is not at all, because however much I think the Sea God might honor me, he does not love me.

And Hyeri’s questions about the curse have reminded me how I first felt when I entered the Sea God’s palace, like I was missing the last part of a tale, the ending just beyond reach.

I flinch as a strange ache shivers through my heart. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Red String of Fate pull taut in the air.

“Mina?” Shin steps forward. “What’s wrong?”

The Red String of Fate gives another powerful tug, and I groan. “It’s the … it’s the Red String of Fate…” Shin goes completely still. “Something’s wrong.”

There’s another tug, and I collapse.

Shin catches me and lowers me to the floor.

“She’s becoming a spirit.” I can hear Kirin’s voice above me. “It’s been exactly a month since she entered the Spirit Realm.”

I fight against the awful tugging pain; it feels as if my soul is being torn from my body.

“What do we do?” Namgi asks. “How can we help her?”

Kirin looks at Shin, who meets his gaze. “She needs to return to the Sea God.”

Shin doesn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he lifts me up off the floor, and I wrap my arms around his neck. With inhuman speed, he rushes from Spirit House, sprinting down streets and leaping across rooftops.

The pain lessens the closer we get to the palace. By the time we reach the courtyard outside the Sea God’s hall, I’m strong enough to stand. Shin sets me down on the ground.

“Wait for me in the garden,” I tell him before rushing into the Sea God’s hall.

Like the first night, when the Red String of Fate led me to him, the Sea God is slumped upon the throne with his eyes closed.

Behind him, the setting sun paints the mural of the dragon in colors of orange and yellow, the pearl in burnished gold.

“Mina?” The Sea God’s eyes flutter open.

I move to his side, and he looks up at me.

He’s nothing like the Sea God in the last tale I told. That god was almighty and powerful. After all, in the end, he let Shim Cheong go home.

Looking at the Sea God now, I wonder, how can a god be so fragile? So human?

The pain from before has dulled to a low ache. Close as we are, the length of the ribbon is short, merely an arm’s length. I close the distance, pressing my hand to his. His hand is cool and soft, while mine is warm and rough. Nothing startling happens. I’m not pulled into any dreams; there’s no burst of light. When I move away, the Red String of Fate has disappeared.