“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?”
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?”