“Who is he?” I ask.
“The death god, Shiki,” Shin says. “One of the more powerful gods, and no friend of mine.”
Shiki. The one who Shin fought for the soul of last year’s bride, Hyeri.
Moving slowly, the god approaches the little girl, halting a short distance from her. The girl—out of breath, out of strength—catches sight of him. She resumes her struggle, but this time, in his direction. It’s slow progress, but her will is strong. She refuses to give in to the relentless current. Finally, reaching the god, she grasps on to his robes. He takes her up in his arms, cradling her close. Weary from her ordeal, she falls limp.
The death god begins to walk with the girl toward the opposite shore. Halfway across the river, he stops, turning to stare directly at us. Balancing the child with one arm, he uses the other to point to a bridge spanning the length of the river, his meaning clear. When Shin nods back that he’s understood, the death god continues his slow advance through the water.
Kirin and Namgi wait for us at the edge of the bridge.
“Is it wise to meet the death god alone?” Kirin says, once we’ve drawn close. If he’s still upset from earlier, he doesn’t show it.
“Shin will be fine, as long he’s with Mina,” Namgi answers. “Shiki has a soft spot for Sea God’s brides.”
Whether Shin agrees or not, he doesn’t argue further, stepping onto the wooden slats of the bridge. Neither Kirin nor Namgi moves to stop me as I follow him into the mist.
It’s thicker here than it was by the shore. The atmosphere feels familiar, and I wonder if this is the same bridge I found myself on when I first woke in the Sea God’s realm.
I follow the Red String of Fate to the middle of the bridge, where Shin waits, peering into the mist.
“What lies on the other side of the river?” I ask.
“Star House,” Shin answers, “where the death god resides. Other than that, mountains and mist. The fog thickens the farther from the city you venture. You can wander in the mist for weeks and come out where you started, or on the other side of the city. It’s why I lost the thieves’ trail. In the mist, it’s difficult to keep track of anything. Spirits often get lost in it, trying to find a way to return to the world of the living, but it’s not possible. Once you come down the river, you can’t go back.”
I shiver at the thought. “What do you think Shiki wishes to speak with you about?”
“In truth, I can’t say. Last we met, we clashed. With words and weapons. I had taken the soul of the bride, as I have every year, yet Shiki, having grown protective of the girl, demanded its return. When I refused, we fought.”
“And yet her soul was returned to her,” I say, the implication being that the outcome had been in Shiki’s favor. In my mind, I envision the memory of Hyeri, peering out from the palanquin’s window, her eyes alight with curiosity and laughter.
“She had interrupted the fight. She was … dying, apart from her soul for too long. And Shiki, the God of Death, could do nothing. I returned her soul then, if only to stop him from complaining.”
“Ah,” I say. “So Shiki won in the end”—Shin scowls—“because he had a friend like you.”
Shin shakes his head but doesn’t deny my words. “Proper thanks he gave me. After saving her life, he called me a ‘bastard without a soul,’ and left. I haven’t spoken to or seen him since.”
Shin’s story has revealed more than he might have intended. For Shiki’s sake, he saved Hyeri, giving rise to rumor and scorn against himself.
“How can you be certain that you don’t have a soul?” I ask.
“Every being has a soul, whether it’s hidden inside you, as it is for humans, or in a different form, as it is for beasts of myth. Gods also have souls. For the Goddess of Moon and Memory, her soul is the moon. For the Sea God, his soul is the dragon of the East Sea. For household gods, their souls are the hearth; for gods of the mountains, rivers, and lakes, their souls—”
“Are the mountains, rivers, and lakes,” I finish.
He nods. “And so when the mountains, rivers, and lakes are destroyed, so are the gods. Because when the rivers are polluted and the forests burn, the gods fade and disappear. I am a god who has lost his soul and with it, all my memories of who I once was, of what I was meant to protect. In this way, I should have disappeared a long time ago.”
The pain in his voice is unmistakable. He closes his eyes. More than anything I want to comfort him in this moment, and yet I don’t have the words. Even when my soul was a magpie, I knew it still existed, just outside myself. It wasn’t lost. It wasn’t forgotten.