The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea(8)

I can see her clearly as she stood on the boat, confronting her fate in the form of the dragon, rising up out of the sea. A fate she never asked for. A fate she refused.

On the throne, the boy-god thrashes from side to side. He’s still asleep, his eyes squeezed shut. The Red String of Fate lashes out, searing me.

With a desperate leap, I reach for the Sea God. At the same time, there’s a shout behind me. I ignore it, grabbing the Sea God’s hand and gripping tight. The Red String of Fate disappears between our clasped palms, and then I’m abruptly pulled forward into a blinding light.

I’m met with a flurry of images, moving too quickly to make sense of—a cliff by the sea; a golden city burning in a valley; crimson robes on the ground, darkened with blood; and a colossal shadow.

I look up. The dragon descends from above, clutching a pearl in one giant talon, as if holding the moon.

Then I’m torn from the images, my hand ripped from the Sea God’s. The third assassin grips my wrist, and it’s as if I’m still in the Sea God’s dreams, because I can almost believe I see the dragon reflected in his dark eyes.

Then he releases me, stepping back. I struggle to hold on to the images in the dream—or were they memories? The cliffs are familiar; they stretch all along the coast. The city must be the capital, though all the messengers who come through our village bring only news of the conqueror’s triumphs, not of war or destruction. As for the robes, the Sea God’s are silver and blue.

“Those images.” I shake my head, trying to concentrate. “It felt like I was seeing them through the Sea God’s eyes.”

I’m surprised when the assassin responds. “They’re from his nightmare. Every year he has the same one.”

“Then there truly is a connection to the Sea God’s bride. The power to lift the curse lies within her.”

“You wanted to kill him, not so long ago.”

I glance sharply at the assassin. He and the others must have been in the hall when I arrived, if they saw me raise my knife. Why didn’t they stop me? I don’t think they mean to harm the Sea God, otherwise they would have attacked him, vulnerable as he is in his sleep.

Like Namgi and Kirin, the third assassin is dressed in thin cotton robes, a blue so dark it appears black. Even with the mask, his youth is undeniable—smooth skin, a strong, lean body. He can’t be much older than seventeen.

“Am I not allowed to be angry?” I say curtly. “My people have suffered much because of the Sea God’s abandonment. Because of his neglect, the other gods have turned away from us.”

I think of my grandmother, calling me to the shrine to pray. I think of the wind chime I made for my niece, dashed upon the rocks. And then another memory calls from deep within me, of a dark forest and a winding path.

I shake my head, willing away the images. “But that was before I came here, where nothing is as I expected. Nor is he what I expected.” On the throne, the Sea God sleeps, peaceful after the tumult only moments before. He is not the cruel and spiteful deity I envisioned, but a boy-god, asleep and crying in his dreams.

I didn’t run to the beach to become the Sea God’s bride but to save my brother. But I am here now, and if there’s a chance I can save not only him, but everyone, then I have to try.

And maybe, when this is all over, I can go home. To my village. To my family. My heart yearns at the thought.

“If it is a curse that plagues him, then I will find a way to break it.”

The Sea God lets out a gentle sigh. Between us, the Red String of Fate flutters, and a feeling like hope steals into my heart.

“You’re just like all the other brides,” the dark-eyed boy says softly. I turn to find that he’s stepped back, his eyes downcast. “Humans tell myths to explain what they cannot understand.”

He lifts his gaze, and his eyes are like the deepest part of the sea, cold and unknowable. I realize, His eyes do more to hide his thoughts than his mask does to hide his face.

“But I can explain it to you,” he continues. “Your people suffer not because of any great will of the gods, but because of their own violent acts. They wage the wars that burn the forests and fields. They spill the blood that pollutes the rivers and streams. To blame the gods is to blame the land itself. Look upon your reflection to find your enemy.”

His words ring out across the hall with a bone-chilling truth.

I feel as if I’m back in the sea, the icy water pulling me deeper and deeper.

“You will fail, like all the brides before you,” he says.

No dragon to save me. No hope to hold on to, the world above winking out like a star.

“It is inevitable.” He looks away. “It is your fate.”

My fate?

The feeling of drowning ceases.

This fate was never mine to begin with. I claimed it for myself when I jumped into the sea. But even before then, I wasn’t the one who changed the pattern of the story. It was Shim Cheong, who denied her fate when she wouldn’t let go of Joon. At least, isn’t that why she turned from the dragon? I brush away the thought. I might not understand Shim Cheong’s motives, but I do know my own.

“You’re right,” I say. The boy’s eyes flit back, narrowing as I speak. “I am like the other brides. I know what it is to love someone you would do anything to protect. Who are you to say what my fate is—if I am to fail, or if I am to succeed? My fate is not yours to decide. My fate belongs to me.”