As I was speaking, the Sea God remained by the pond.
His voice is quiet. “What is the meaning of this story?”
I gaze at his back, the tremble of his slight shoulders. “There is no meaning, just a … feeling, maybe.”
“And what is that?”
“That there is no place you can go so far away from forgiveness. Not from someone who loves you.”
At least, that’s what I always thought when I heard this particular story. I wanted to believe that even if one of us should make a mistake, my brother would forgive me, and that I would forgive him.
“Forgiveness,” the Sea God says. “I will never be forgiven for what I have done.”
He lifts his hand from the water, placing his fingers on his forehead. Droplets trickle down his face, moving over and under his closed eyes like tears. “I have a headache. Leave me.”
“Wait,” I say. “There’s something you need to know. My people—”
The dragon raises its head from within the mist and blows a cool breath across my face.
I collapse unconscious, only to wake to an empty garden with Shin beside me.
“Mina.” Shin struggles to sit up, fighting off the last vestiges of sleep. His voice is laced with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I—I’m fine,” I say, startled by his presence. When he was asleep, he was vulnerable, and I felt protective of him. But now I’m the one who feels oddly exposed.
Like that morning I discovered he’d gone back for the paper boat, an odd feeling lodges in my chest, as if my heart were full. Something changed between us that day, or maybe it was the night before, when we brought the wish to the goddess. Though I’m not ready to put a name to the feeling just yet.
I turn away. “The Sea God was just here, Shin. I was in his dream.”
Shin says nothing, though his brow is furrowed.
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. Then, hesitating, he adds, “The Sea God has never shown himself to a bride before.”
All around us the fog has dissipated.
“Let’s go back, Mina. We’ve lingered here long enough.”
He reaches for my hand, and it feels natural to slide my palm against his, taking comfort in his steady strength. When we hold hands like this, the Red String of Fate disappears altogether. It’s how it would seem if we were in the mortal realm, where fate is hidden from the eye.
18
Kirin and Namgi are waiting for us on the dock when we arrive back at Lotus House. “A missive came for you when you were away,” Kirin says, handing over a scroll. “From Crane House.”
Shin unwinds the string, opening the scroll to reveal a short message written in elegant, sweeping calligraphy. “Lord Yu claims he has news of Lord Bom’s treachery,” he informs us. “He says to come at once.”
I turn to Namgi. “On my first night in the Spirit Realm, you said Crane House was home to scholars.”
“That’s right.” Namgi nods. “Crane House is home to the greatest scholars who’ve ever lived.”
“Then…” This time I address Shin. “Can I come with you? I would speak to a scholar, or Lord Yu himself, about the Sea God. Perhaps someone has knowledge of his past.”
Shin looks hesitant, so Namgi says, “With Kirin, you, and myself, Mina will be safe.”
Shin nods reluctantly, and I hurry off to the pavilion to change my dress—still smelling faintly of pondweed—into a more decorative one, with a light blue jacket and pink skirt. I keep my great-great-grandmother’s knife around my neck and my lotus-carved pebble tucked inside a silk bag tied to my waist.
Together, Shin, Namgi, Kirin, and I make our way toward Crane House, which lies northeast of the palace. The setting sun gilds the buildings in a hazy golden glow. Spirits with long poles flit in and out of buildings, lighting candles in their lanterns.
Immediately Shin and Kirin fall into deep discussion, presumably over the plans to expose Lord Tiger.
The air reverberates with a low humming sound, as if there’s a great waterfall nearby.
“What was the Sea God like?” Namgi asks from where he walks beside me.
I think of the expression on the Sea God’s face as he looked at the pond. “He wasn’t at all what I expected. He was … melancholy, as if he’d lost something and forgotten what it was.”
Namgi kicks a loose stone. “And the dragon was with him? I’d give anything to see the dragon again.”
The longing in his voice is palpable. His profile is stark in the shadows cast by the lanterns. I remember what he told me before—that his kind, the Imugi, fight in endless battles so that one day they might become dragons.