He scowls. “Is that all you have to say to me?”
“I can say more. Where have you been all day? Why didn’t you come to see me when I woke? Are you angry with me?”
Shin looks as if he’ll respond, then seems to change his mind, glancing around us. We’ve attracted an audience. He looks meaningfully toward the canal, and I follow him to the edge, where he pays a boatman to lend us his small rowboat. Careful not to catch my dress, I take Shin’s hand. His grip is steady, only letting go when I’ve settled onto the bench.
Shin drags the oars through the water in an easy, fluid motion until we’ve reached the middle of the canal. Pulling in the oars, he lets the boat drift. There are only a few other vessels out on the water, but they’re closer to the shore. It’s as if we’re alone on the river. I listen to the croon of the water and the creak of the wood. A dozen floating lanterns surround us, glowing brightly.
“You asked where I’ve been all day,” Shin says. “I was at the Sea God’s palace. I wanted to determine the truth for myself. The doors of the gate were barred. When I tried to climb over the wall, a force prevented me from entering. Whether the storms have ended”—his eyes move to the shore, where spirits gather to place paper lanterns on the water—“you can see for yourself that many believe so. We’ll have to wait until next year to be certain.”
I dip my hand in the water, letting droplets slip through my fingers like pearls. “What happens now?” I’m careful to keep my voice steady. “The Red String of Fate is broken. In a week’s time, I’ll have spent a month in the Spirit Realm.” The implication of my words is clear; in one week, I’ll become a spirit. I straighten, pressing my hands into my lap. “My main concern is Shim Cheong. Is there a way for her to return to the human realm?”
Shin watches me, though it’s difficult to make out his expression. “What about you? Do you wish to return?”
My breath catches. “Can I?”
“The second question you asked was why I didn’t come to you after you woke. The reason is because I had gone to Spirit House, to consult your ancestors.”
“My ancestors?” I ask, not understanding. “What do you mean?”
“You can speak to your family members who’ve passed before you, at least those who’ve climbed from the river to remain in the Spirit Realm. Many spirits still receive ancestral rites from their children and grandchildren. If you were a spirit yourself, you would instinctively know this.”
I’ve always wondered if the gifts of food and other offerings we leave beside the graves of our loved ones ever reach the Spirit Realm. I smile in wonder at the thought.
“Ancestors are invested in their descendants, and are often wise after many years of living in the Spirit Realm. I thought I could ask them for help. But as they’re not my ancestors, I wasn’t allowed to speak with them. On another day, I’ll take you to them.”
I’m struck with a rush of emotions, relief that my ancestors might know a way to return Shim Cheong to the world above, that I might even return. And uncertainty, because I have so little time left.
“And what of my last question?” I ask softly. “Are you angry with me? Because of what happened with the assassin?”
“No,” he answers. “That wasn’t your fault.”
He lifts his hand to his chest, an unconscious movement. He did the same outside Moon House, when he first told me he was a god that had lost everything he was once sworn to protect.
“The truth is, I was angry. Earlier, not then. The story you told the Sea God, about the woodcutter and the heavenly maiden. In the end she returned home, to the place where she longed to be.”
He takes a deep breath. “I know that all you ever wanted was to save your family. That’s why you jumped into the sea. That’s been the reason behind every decision you’ve made, however reckless, however brave.”
His eyes find mine. “I was angry, but not at you. I was angry at the fate I’d been given. Because I realized that in order for you to have what you want, I’d have to lose the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
I can hardly breathe; my heart is in my throat.
Shin slips his hand into his robes at his chest and pulls out a silk purse. He unknots the drawstring, and the pebble carved with the lotus flower tumbles out.
“I’ll return you home, Mina. I promise. But it might take longer than a week.” He curls his hand around the pebble. “In order to remain a human, you’d have to tie your life to an immortal. I may not be the god of a river, a mountain, or a lake, but I am a god, and I would tie my life to yours, if you’ll have me.”