“And you have guarded my bride.”
“—but I cannot serve you in this.”
The Sea God’s eyes flash in anger. “You would stand against me? I am a god!”
“As am I,” Shin says fiercely.
Behind him the dragon takes a menacing step. My hand closes in a fist, and I wince in pain. I forgot I was holding my great-great-grandmother’s knife. Blood trickles down my hand over the scar on my palm, so long hidden beneath the Red String of Fate. I made it when I swiped this same blade against my skin and pledged my life to the Sea God.
“Mina?” It takes me a moment to realize the Sea God is calling me.
Even though he appears grand in his magnificent robes, the palace behind him, the dragon before him, his eyes are as they were in the hall—full of a heartbreaking grief.
“Will you come with me now?” he asks softly. In the vastness of the boulevard, his voice is hardly a whisper. “Will you be my bride? I’ve done what you asked. I’ve ended the storms. I’ve taken my rightful place among the gods and my people. I’ve—I’ve woken.”
He falters for a moment but then lifts his face. “I am the Sea God. And you are my bride. Come with me now, as you said you would. As you promised.”
I look to Shin, and to the dragon, looming behind him. If I refuse the Sea God, will the dragon strike in anger? Silently it watches me, waiting.
“Mina,” Shin says, a hint of panic in his voice. “You don’t have to do this.”
“You said it yourself, Shin,” I whisper. “You know why I came here. It was always to protect my family.” I look behind Shin and the dragon, to the city. The lanterns from the festival, which once shone so brightly, are now ripped and shredded. The people peek out from the wreckage of the buildings, watching me with wide eyes and soot-streaked faces. “I have to do this. Don’t you see? I think … I think I am the Sea God’s bride.”
“Mina,” Shin says, his voice hoarse. “Please don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” I turn just as the tears start to fall, rush up the steps of the palace, and take the hand the Sea God holds out to me. He leads me up the stairs and across the threshold of the gate. The wind rises as the dragon lifts its great body into the air, gliding over the gate above our heads. My thoughts feel cloudy. My heart beats hollowly in my chest.
At the last moment, I look back.
Shin stands outside the gates of the Sea God’s palace, his head lowered. He doesn’t look up, even as the doors shut between us.
30
I follow the Sea God through the courtyard and into the hall. An eerie silence hangs over the palace, no evidence of guards or nobles or even servants. Reaching the dais, the Sea God hesitates before forgoing the cold throne and sitting on the steps. I join him, pulling my feet beneath my skirt.
The silence drags on. I study the boy-god, who appears ill-suited for his grand robes. He sits hunched over, his elbows balanced on his knees. I realize—I don’t know his name. Immediately I feel guilty for having never asked. “What should I call you? What is your name?”
“You may call me Husband.”
I blanch. “We are not … married, are we?”
“There must be a wedding first.”
I sigh with relief.
“As for your second question, I don’t have a name. Perhaps … you can give me one.”
“What about…” I look past his shoulder to the mural of the dragon. “Yong?”
The Sea God grimaces. “If you must…”
He looks so appalled, I can’t help but smile a little. “I won’t call you a name that displeases you. For now, Sea God will do. I venture no one else in two worlds has a name like that.”
“I do have a name. I just … I can’t remember it. There are so many things I can’t remember.”
He peers down at his hands, and I’m reminded of what drew me to the Sea God in the first place. What must it be like, to be so alone? When I first saw him, I thought that I could protect him.
“When I sleep,” he says softly, “I have the strangest dreams. There’s a city of crimson and gold and a cliff and a dazzling light. And then there’s pain, unbearable pain. But it’s not in my bones—it’s in my soul.” He lifts his pale hands to his neck, as if the words in his throat hurt him. “And in all of my dreams, I’m drowning.”
I move closer to him. He leans forward and places his head on my knees. “Mina,” he whispers, “will you tell me one of your tales?”