“You must make apologies to your great-great-grandmother for me, Mina,” he says sheepishly. “Tell her I didn’t mean half the things I said.”
“Namgi, aren’t most of the spirits here ancestors to someone or another? Every spirit you flirt with could be a grandparent.”
He groans. “Don’t remind me.”
With the knowledge from my ancestors, I know how to save Shim Cheong. Yet what seems simple is not at all, because however much I think the Sea God might honor me, he does not love me.
And Hyeri’s questions about the curse have reminded me how I first felt when I entered the Sea God’s palace, like I was missing the last part of a tale, the ending just beyond reach.
I flinch as a strange ache shivers through my heart. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Red String of Fate pull taut in the air.
“Mina?” Shin steps forward. “What’s wrong?”
The Red String of Fate gives another powerful tug, and I groan. “It’s the … it’s the Red String of Fate…” Shin goes completely still. “Something’s wrong.”
There’s another tug, and I collapse.
Shin catches me and lowers me to the floor.
“She’s becoming a spirit.” I can hear Kirin’s voice above me. “It’s been exactly a month since she entered the Spirit Realm.”
I fight against the awful tugging pain; it feels as if my soul is being torn from my body.
“What do we do?” Namgi asks. “How can we help her?”
Kirin looks at Shin, who meets his gaze. “She needs to return to the Sea God.”
Shin doesn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he lifts me up off the floor, and I wrap my arms around his neck. With inhuman speed, he rushes from Spirit House, sprinting down streets and leaping across rooftops.
The pain lessens the closer we get to the palace. By the time we reach the courtyard outside the Sea God’s hall, I’m strong enough to stand. Shin sets me down on the ground.
“Wait for me in the garden,” I tell him before rushing into the Sea God’s hall.
Like the first night, when the Red String of Fate led me to him, the Sea God is slumped upon the throne with his eyes closed.
Behind him, the setting sun paints the mural of the dragon in colors of orange and yellow, the pearl in burnished gold.
“Mina?” The Sea God’s eyes flutter open.
I move to his side, and he looks up at me.
He’s nothing like the Sea God in the last tale I told. That god was almighty and powerful. After all, in the end, he let Shim Cheong go home.
Looking at the Sea God now, I wonder, how can a god be so fragile? So human?
The pain from before has dulled to a low ache. Close as we are, the length of the ribbon is short, merely an arm’s length. I close the distance, pressing my hand to his. His hand is cool and soft, while mine is warm and rough. Nothing startling happens. I’m not pulled into any dreams; there’s no burst of light. When I move away, the Red String of Fate has disappeared.
“Mina.” The Sea God sits up. “What happened? What did you do?”
“I am not your bride,” I say gently. “Not truly. You don’t love me, nor I you. We are fated, but not in this way.”
I wonder if the Sea God will protest. His brows knit together and a look of genuine concern falls across his delicate features. “But you’ll die, Mina. You’ll become a spirit.”
“Not if I can help it.” I smile to reassure him. “You have to be strong, for just a little longer. Can you do that for me?”
“I— Yes. I think I can.”
I turn from him and race out the door behind the throne, down the stone steps, and through the garden. The pain is gone, yet I know soon I’ll become a spirit. And although I am afraid, hope rises within me.
I want to tell Shin everything—that I’m sorry for leaving him, that I felt at the time it was the only choice I could make. But I was wrong. There is always a choice.
I want to tell Shin that I choose him, always him.
I sprint through the garden, leaping over the stream and through the trees winking with the orange glow of sunset. I sweep past the meadow, across the bridge, coming out on the hill overlooking the pavilion where Shin stands.
Don’t chase fate, Mina. Let fate chase you.
33
Shin is waiting inside the pavilion beside the Pond of Paper Boats. He turns at my approach up the steps, his eyes finding mine.
“Did you speak with the Sea God?” he asks softly, looking at me in that way that always makes it hard for me to breathe.