“And by doing so, kill me and the Sea God in turn?” I crinkle my nose. “I’d rather go without such help. My soul is safely where it belongs, inside of me.”
When Shin turns away, I wince at my careless words. After all, he has claimed that he has no soul.
But when he glances back, his expression isn’t pained but thoughtful. “Walk with me?”
We head around the bridge toward the far side of the lake, where most of the house activity is located. Servants unload baskets of rice and vegetables from boats tied to the docks. I look for Mask and Dai on the lake, but they’re nowhere in sight.
Though Shin and I walk in silence, it’s a companionable sort. I feel more myself than I have all week—because of my talk with Mask, but also because Shin is here. The Red String of Fate, though a friendly glimmer at the corner of my eye, was also a constant reminder of his absence. Something about him makes me feel braver, like I can be the person he believes me to be.
I don’t realize I’m staring at the Red String of Fate until I look up to find Shin’s eyes upon it as well, then he lifts his gaze.
“Kirin was frustrated with me while we were in the mountains. We were supposed to be tracking the thieves, but I was distracted. Every now and then the Red String of Fate would ripple or glimmer, and I thought to myself, What is she doing? Probably up to all kinds of mischief.”
He shakes his head with a half-smile. “I was surprised when I returned only to discover you hadn’t left the house at all.”
My first instinct is to deny his words, the feeling of embarrassment acute, but I surprise myself by speaking truthfully. “After the encounter with the Goddess of Women and Children, I felt discouraged. My faith was badly wounded. It was hard for me to accept that a goddess wouldn’t care about a prayer that was given with so much love.”
An echo of that awful feeling returns, and I bring my hand to my neck. When I look up, I find Shin watching me, and I feel suddenly vulnerable.
I drop my hand. “Well, I am glad you’re back,” I say, throwing a bit of levity into my voice. “At least with you around, there’s more for my heart to do than mope.” Shin goes still. I realize, belatedly, how this might sound. “That is, I don’t have time to stew on melancholy thoughts. I’m too busy trying to get the best of you. It’s easier to be brave when you’re boiling mad.”
He raises a brow. “Only you could change your mind from a compliment to an insult halfway through.”
We step onto the docks and walk across the thick boards until we reach the very end, where a boat is moored to a post. I recognize it as the one we took to Fox House. As Shin leans down to untie the rope, I feel a strange pain in my chest. “Where are you going? You just returned.”
And maybe it’s the raw feelings from earlier, but I don’t want him to leave. And the realization of this makes me feel confused and upset. My cheeks grow hot, and I’m glad that he’s occupied with the boat.
“Outside Moon House,” Shin says, the boat rocking gently beneath him, “you claimed that I hated the Sea God. The truth is, I don’t. Resent him, yes. Pity and doubt him, every day. But never hate him. I don’t know if I believe he’s … cursed, or that the curse isn’t one he inflicted upon himself. But maybe my own feelings have gotten in the way of seeing things clearly.”
He turns back, holding his hand out to me. “For years, Lotus House has protected the Sea God by severing the tie that makes him mortal through his connection with a human bride, and for a time, blocking a wound from bleeding out. But a wound, not tended properly, will reopen; it must be healed.”
I take his hand and step into the boat, settling on one of the seats. He sits opposite me, reaching for the oars.
“But the Sea God wasn’t in the throne room or the garden,” I say.
“He has to be somewhere. We’ll go every day if we must.”
Hope is a heady feeling. I sense it billowing up inside me, as if the magpie were unfurling its wings. In this moment with Shin, the Red String of Fate bright like a flame between us, anything feels possible.
17
We leave the boat in the canal outside the palace and enter the Sea God’s garden through the door in the painting.
Even abandoned as it is, the garden is beautiful. Flower petals flitter across the pebbled pathway, catching in the billowy pleats of my skirt. A slight drizzle permeates the air, and I wonder if a storm might be brewing somewhere to the east.
At the pond a small wind has blown all the paper boats to the far shore, leaving the waters closest noticeably bare. While Shin inspects the pavilion, I wander down to the bank and bend to pick up a stone.