I’m dreaming of the dragon as it rose from the sea—its eyes upon me, dark and fathomless—when I’m startled awake by a sound. I blink, disoriented. Moonlight seeps through the window. The shadows of clouds drift slowly across the paper screen. It can’t be too far past midnight.
Again, the sound. An unmistakable cry of pain. Shin!
Scrambling out of the blankets, I push aside the screen. Shin tosses and turns on the bedding, his robes askew. He must have returned to Lotus House and gone to bed without changing. I quickly check him for visible wounds but find none. A nightmare, then? Sweat beads his brow, and his body trembles, as if taken by a chill.
I crouch beside him and grab his shoulders, giving a rough shake. “Shin, wake up!”
His eyes fly open. “Mina?”
I press the back of my hand to his forehead. “You don’t have a fever. How do you feel?”
He starts to sit up, and I quickly move to help him. Once he’s upright, I hurry to the low shelf and grab the bowl there, plucking the paper boat from the water and placing it gently aside. I test the water with my fingertips, relieved to find it cool. Returning to Shin’s side, I soak a cloth in the water and bring it to his forehead.
“You were having a nightmare,” I say as I dab the sweat from his brow. “Do you remember what it was about?”
He shakes his head slowly, his dark eyes intent upon my face. “I spoke to Lord Crane. He knows about the Red String of Fate between us. He admitted to sending the thieves to steal your soul, and failing that, contracted the same to kill you.”
A shiver runs through me. Mask, Dai, and I might have defeated the bear-assassin, but the weasel is still out there.
I dip the cloth again and bring it to his neck. “Did he say anything else?”
He must have told Shin about how the Red String of Fate can be broken.
“No.”
I look up. Shin meets my gaze, his expression inscrutable. Is he … lying? But why would he lie about knowing the truth?
“He told me some things as well,” I say. “He said that the way to break the curse upon the Sea God is to form a fated connection with him, the same as between lovers. As for the Red String of Fate we share, he said—”
“You’re wrong,” Shin interrupts. “I think I have a fever.”
I was disoriented before, upon waking, but reason has now returned. According to Nari, spirits and gods cannot become ill.
Shin lifts his hand to brush his fingers against his face. The movement draws my attention to his bare forearm and his robes that are askew, having fallen wide at his neck in his sleep. Suddenly, my shoulders feel very exposed without my jacket. Neither of us is dressed to be having this conversation.
“I’ll fetch Kirin.” I get up, almost tripping when the skirt of my dress snags on something. I look down to see Shin holding on to the back of it, his hand a fist. He notices it, too, and releases me abruptly, turning his face away.
I hesitate, then kneel on the blankets. “Do you want me to stay?”
He looks at me, and I have my answer in the open longing in his eyes.
I move to smooth down his pillow. And then he’s reaching for me, and I go to him, his arms circling around me. His breath whispers against my neck as he pulls me close.
It seems impossible that I’ll fall asleep, the tension humming painfully beneath my skin, but eventually I’m lulled into a peaceful slumber, every one of my heartbeats an echo of his.
23
I wake to thunder rumbling in the distance and a knowing in my heart of what I must do.
“Shin,” I say, turning to face him. I hesitate. He’s asleep. Unlike the restlessness of last night, he looks at peace, his brow smooth, his lips slightly parted. I’d give anything to make his slumber last a little longer. But I can’t do this alone.
“Shin,” I say again.
“Mina?” He blinks sleepily. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to go somewhere.”
He frowns, watching me closely. “Where?”
“To the Sea God’s palace.”
His eyes darken, but he nods. “All right.”
He stands, grabs a fresh set of robes from the cabinet, and leaves the room. Hurriedly I dress in a coral skirt and white jacket, rushing down the stairs. Shin waits with Namgi and Kirin outside, the air coated in a heavy mist. In the east, dark clouds gather over the mountains.
“Something’s not right,” Kirin says. “That storm appears unnatural.”
“If it’s traveling over the eastern mountains,” Namgi says, “it’s from the world of humans.” They exchange an inscrutable glance.