He takes in the bruise; he says not a word, though his eyes seem to somehow grow even darker. Twisting away from me, he seizes his sword.
Namgi grabs him from behind. “Shin, stop! Lord Yu is the head of Crane House. Even you can’t kill him without angering the other houses. We have to go before we’re overwhelmed.” As if to emphasize Namgi’s words, there’s a great thundering of feet on the floorboards above us, guards of Crane House gathering to defend their lord and home.
Shin reaches for me again, this time taking my hand.
Out in the hall, Kirin stands above the unconscious bodies of five guards, his white robes pristine, as if he hadn’t just been in a scuffle.
“Lord Shin…，” he begins, but Shin brushes by him. Guilt sweeps through me—had I not left Kirin’s side, this wouldn’t have happened. And yet, I can’t regret the actions that led me to Lord Yu; although he was treacherous, he did share knowledge.
Neither Shin nor I speak as we traverse the long hallway back to the library, leaving unchallenged through the great doors we entered not an hour ago.
Shin’s face is set, his expression grim. He doesn’t let go of my hand until we’ve walked a far distance.
“What happened after you left me?” I ask. Over my shoulder, I see Namgi and Kirin spread out, watching our backs.
“Lord Bom was there when I arrived.” Shin shakes his head. “But he had soldiers with him. It was a trap. Crane and Tiger were working together. They meant to keep me occupied until they could get to you.” He growls, clearly frustrated with himself. “I should have anticipated this. You’re in danger because of me.”
I should tell him what I discovered from Lord Crane: The curse upon the Sea God can be lifted if he forms a Red String of Fate with a bride. And in turn, Shin’s and my fate can be unmade, if either of us were to make a stronger connection with another.
The answer seems clear. For both of us to have what we want, I should form a bond with the Sea God. Then Shin will be free, and my people will be saved. The path I’m supposed to take is right in front of me.
Why, then, do I feel as if I’ve lost my way?
As we walk, I become aware of a low, rumbling sound. I noticed it on our journey to Crane House, though it was in the distance. It’s louder now; I can feel my bones humming in answer. The air grows cooler, and a heavy mist rises to the height of my ankles. A chill wind catches the strands of my loosened braid, unraveled in the tumult.
“Is that a waterfall?” I ask.
Shin stops to remove his outer robe, placing the long jacket over my shoulders. Immediately I stop shivering, the jacket warm with the heat from his body. “It’s the river.”
The way he says “river” suggests it’s not an ordinary body of water. The rising mist thickens. I pull Shin’s robe tighter around me, breathing in crystals of ice that catch sharply in my throat. Ahead is a river shrouded in mist. It’s not overly wide—I can see the far shore—but it’s loud, the strong current buffeting large objects on the surface.
“Is that…？” I edge closer to the shore. It takes me a moment to grasp what I’m seeing. A pale hand, a bloodless face. The objects aren’t debris, but people. They float on the river, their bodies half-submerged. I count four, five, six individuals, and those are just the ones closest to the shore. More float ever closer to this point in the river, and even more have already passed. They’re all so still. Too still …
I catch sight of a thrashing movement. In the middle of the river, a child struggles against the current. Her cries are faint, almost noiseless against the onslaught of rushing water. Her desperate arms reach up, breaching the surface, only to get sucked down again, too exhausted to keep afloat.
I rush forward, but Shin stretches out his arm to block my path. “You can’t go into the river,” he says. “The current is too swift. It’ll sweep you away.”
“I have to help her.”
“I’m afraid it’s impossible. Only the dead can enter the River of Souls.”
I’ve heard of this river before; Mask mentioned it the night we first met. But she also mentioned that spirits can pull themselves from the river, should their will be strong enough.
I watch as the little girl struggles to keep her head above the water. The other bodies have their eyes closed, as if in sleep, but the girl refuses to accept the course of the river. She wants to live.
Shin curses beneath his breath.
I follow his gaze farther up the shore. A man approaches the water. From this distance, I can’t see his face, but he’s tall, with black, shoulder-length hair. The waters nearest the shore calm with his approach, and he wades into the depths. While the rest of the river rushes powerfully along, a circle of smooth water surrounds him.