“I will.”
“You…” The boy seems to deflate. “I know who you are. My father told me about you. He said you protect our people, that if I were ever in desperate need, you would help me. Will you help me now?”
There’s a sound like stars sweeping through the sky. I look up to see the dragon above us, a massive pearl held in its left claw.
It’s the dragon like I’ve never seen it before. Its scales are a vibrant, dazzling blue. Its whiskers are long, white. It even moves more freely through the air—buoyant, joyous. The dragon drops the pearl, and it explodes into light, re-forming as a magnificent pair of silver-blue wings, protruding from the back of Shin’s shoulders.
The emperor looks at Shin, a look of pure wonder on his face. “Who are you?”
“I am the Sea God.”
On a dragon’s pearl, your wish will leap.
“Make a wish.”
“I wish to live.”
34
Back in the alley, the boat crumbles into dust, drifting from my hand in swirls.
“It is done,” the goddess says. “By now, the Sea God and the emperor will have regained their memories, of who they were, of who they are, as well as the people caught in the power of the wish.”
I can still feel the memory on my skin, the salt-kissed air, the sweep of the dragon through the sky, the Sea God. Shin. They are one and the same. In order to save the emperor’s life, Shin gave the emperor his soul, the dragon. Now I understand how I could share a Red String of Fate with both the emperor and Shin, as for a hundred years, their soul was one.
“How did you know?” the goddess asks. “The memory only confirmed what you already suspected.”
How did I know? I think of all the pieces I’ve gathered up until now—Shin, who lost his soul and his memories with it; the Sea God, who seemed less like a god and more like a boy caught in a terrible nightmare. But mostly I knew …
“Because I am the Sea God’s bride, and Shin is the one I love.”
After a pause, the goddess sighs. “Well, I can admit defeat when bested. But regardless of who bears the soul of the dragon, he can be overthrown. Hurry back to your Sea God, little bride. Let him know to expect a visit soon from the Goddess of Moon and Memory.”
I study the goddess. Her face is flushed, her eyes bright with triumph. Yet, when I asked to see the memory, she’d already had it with her, waiting to be given. Somewhere in her heart, she had wanted me to see the memory. She had wanted me to discover the truth.
“If it’s power you desire,” I say, “then there’s a better way to have it than battling the Sea God.”
She arches a brow, her expression disbelieving. “And what way is that?”
“There is no goddess more beloved than the one who protects children.” I think of the young mother who made the wish beside the stream, and the many before and after her who misplaced their hope in an indifferent goddess. “Yet I’ve met the Goddess of Women and Children … and I’ve never met a goddess more unsuitable for such an honored role.”
“Are you saying that I should become the Goddess of Women and Children?”
“It would surely give you the power that you seek. For if it is true, and gods gain power through the love of their people, then you will have much, for the love given to and received from children is the most powerful love in the world.”
The goddess watches me with a guarded expression. “But why do you think I would be suited for such a role?”
I think of my grandmother, who, after my parents and my grandfather passed on to the next life, raised my brothers and me on her own. I think of Mask, my fierce great-great-grandmother, who protected and guided me throughout my time in the Sea God’s realm. I think of the goddess standing before me, who protected Dai from the Imugi, who shed tears for my sister-in-law and her child, who sent the moonlight to guide me home.
“Because, like the women in my family, you have the wisdom of a crane, the heart of a tiger, and the goodness and love that only a goddess who treasures children can have. It’s a heavy burden to be a goddess so beloved, but I believe you of all can bear it.”
The goddess quirks a brow, a subtle movement, but it’s there. “Your belief is strong. You make it difficult to deny your words.”
“I’ll make it easy for you,” I say, already turning to leave, shouting over my shoulder. “Just believe in it, too!”
* * *
It’s quiet in the city, the atmosphere similar to how it was the first time I entered the Spirit Realm, but without the fog. Magic hangs thickly in the air. It’s as if the city and all its wondrous inhabitants are holding their collective breath. I wipe the back of my arm against my eyes, dislodging the tears gathered there. They started when I left the goddess and haven’t stopped since. But I have to stop them now. I need to be strong, stronger than I’ve ever been before.