Dragon Pearl

by Yoon Ha Lee

  I scowled. Haneul might be all right, but I didn’t trust Sujin anymore. Still, I didn’t dare get into an argument with the goblin in front of the ghosts.

  “I suppose that would be okay,” the lieutenant said as Charm took hold. The fires around her form banked, and I was able to see her more clearly.

  I held her gaze and smiled weakly, willing her to believe me. Surely she hadn’t been dead long enough to forget the inconveniences of dealing with a body. Meanwhile, Haneul kept trying to signal Sujin. She fussed conspicuously with her dripping hair, which was so unlike her that Sujin frowned in her direction.

  Finally, the goblin’s eyes widened in understanding. They quickly slipped on their hat and vanished from sight.

  “We’ll be back soon,” I said to the ghosts, trying not to sound breathless. I all but knocked Haneul over in my rush to leave the not-shelter of the shuttle.

  As soon as we stepped outside, Haneul pressed her palms together and chanted prayers to the spirits of wind and water. As before, her magic didn’t have much effect, but even slight protection from the rain was better than nothing. We started sprinting away, and I heard footsteps splashing behind us. It had to be Sujin, trying to keep up.

  “Good thinking back there,” Haneul said to me.

  “Nice to know my Charm magic does work on ghosts,” I said. “Even my brother.” That thought made me so sad I tripped and almost crumpled to the ground. Haneul grabbed my arm and pulled me up.

  The night swallowed us, and I couldn’t help missing the spectral flames that had lit our way previously. Before Jun had led us astray, we’d been headed in the approximate direction of the Dragon Pearl, but who knew how far off course we were now?

  “Too bad we don’t have a flashlight,” I muttered to no one in particular.

  “You’re in luck,” Sujin said. Their voice sounded hoarse. “I grabbed this on the way out.” A case was pressed into my hands, becoming visible as it left Sujin’s grip.

  I froze in my tracks and blinked. It was a survival kit. Only one, but that was better than nothing. “Thank you,” I said stiffly, glad I didn’t have to look into the goblin’s eyes when I did. I didn’t want to have to rely on Sujin for anything.

  “That kit will be good to have,” Haneul said, her tone ragged from running. “We’re going to have to stop for rest eventually.”

  “How long before they catch up to us, do you think?” I asked her. I didn’t have any idea how fast ghosts moved when they went all out. Jang just popped up whenever and wherever he wanted—maybe these guys could, too.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “We need to rest regardless.”

  I agreed, not least because, as miserable as it would be sleeping out in the open, my eyelids wanted to crash closed.

  We created a campsite in the lee of a craggy boulder near a copse of young trees. Haneul resumed her chants in an attempt to persuade the wind and water spirits to leave us in peace for the next few hours.

  Sujin took off their hat. “We can set up a tent using the thermal blanket,” they said. “It’ll go faster if we work together.”

  I gave way with ill grace. We worked in silence for a time, neither of us looking directly at the other.

  “We’ll have to take shifts,” Haneul said. No one argued. “I’ll go first. You two get some rest.”

  The last thing I wanted to do was huddle under the one remaining blanket with Sujin. I was still angry that they had contacted the captain. But even more, I wanted to be alone with my thoughts.

  I was plagued with guilt for dragging the three of us into danger and arriving too late to save my brother. Now I had no one to bring home, and no way to get home. There was still a chance we could find the Dragon Pearl, if we could orient ourselves, but what good would that do when we were marooned here? And how would we keep it out of Captain Hwan’s clutches?

  “Hey,” Sujin said after a while. It was clear from our tossing and turning that neither of us was having any luck falling asleep. “Can we talk?”

  “If we have to,” I said ungraciously. “How long have you been working with Captain Hwan, anyway?”

  “It’s not like that,” Sujin said.

  Was their hurt tone real, or was it an act? I wondered.

  “Lieutenant Hyosu was always telling us to carry a means of contacting the ship in case of emergency,” Sujin went on. “I brought the comm device as a backup plan. The captain might be our only ticket out of here now.”

  I did remember Hyosu drilling that into us during her lessons. And it was true that we needed some way to get off-planet, but . . . “Didn’t you warn Hwan to stay away?” I asked.

  “I said that for the ghosts’ benefit.”

  I couldn’t help being impressed. “Tricky,” I said. “You’re starting to think like a fox.”

  Sujin gave a light laugh. “Guess I’ve been spending too much time around you,” they said. Then, “It didn’t matter what I told the captain. Like the lieutenant’s ghost said, Hwan is going to come down regardless.”

  “But how will he get past the ghosts?” I asked. “He’s lost his two secret weapons: Jun and me.”

  Sujin shrugged. “There are other supernaturals in the crew, and a couple of shamans,” they said. “I’m sure he’ll find a way. He’s too desperate not to.”

  I nodded, remembering what Hwan had written about the Pearl in his logbook: it would be the ultimate threat, able to devastate an entire world . . . The idea of the artifact in his paws made me shudder.

  “Are you cold?” Sujin asked. “Here, take more of the blanket.”

  “No, no, I’m fine,” I said. After a moment, I added, “I’m sorry about getting mad. You just took me by surprise. We were on the run from him, after all.”

  Sujin exhaled in relief. “I’m sorry, too. We’re in a no-win situation, but maybe we’ll figure out something. Let’s try to get some rest before it’s our shift.” Shortly after that I heard their breathing slow as they fell asleep.

  Just before I nodded off myself, I thought I heard muttering, but whether it was ghosts or my imagination I couldn’t tell. I slept deeply and dreamlessly.

  Eventually, Haneul shook me awake for watch duty. I moaned and mumbled but got up. We allowed Sujin to continue sleeping. We were both in silent agreement that the goblin looked pale and should get as much unbroken rest as possible.

  “Wake me if anything seems odd out there,” Haneul said, then yawned hugely.

  “Will do,” I said, although I had promised myself that I wouldn’t disturb her or Sujin for anything short of an emergency.

  “Good,” Haneul said. She stretched with a popping of joints, then crawled into the tent to take my place.

  I sat cross-legged and squinted. My eyes had adjusted to the dark as much as they were going to. The rain had dwindled, and the clouds had thinned enough that more moonlight could filter through, cloaking the world in a haze of blue and silver. Everything smelled simultaneously of earth and leaves and the threatening wildness of water. It was seductive, in its way.

  Then my nose tickled, and I sneezed. Was I coming down with something? The thought was especially concerning on a planet once cursed by disease spirits.

  “Min,” my brother’s voice said out of the darkness. His pale shape, half outlined in fire, emerged little by little, like the inverse of a shadow.

  I jumped up in alarm.

  “Wait,” he said. “I got away from the other ghosts. Hear me out.”

  “Why?” My voice shook. I could have said a lot of things, like You betrayed me to them! for one. Before, when Jun and I were growing up together, I would have spat out words carelessly. But now I didn’t want to say anything I wouldn’t be able to take back. I’d changed since I set out from Jinju, even if I couldn’t pinpoint how exactly.

  “When the crew realized that you’d run off, I talked them out of chasing you. I convinced them to go after Captain Hwan instead,” he said. Was his voice trembling, too? “We spotted one of the larger shuttles descendi
ng. They’ve gone to try to jinx it.”

  I hesitated, biting my lip as I studied Jun’s wrecked face. I’d already paid a price for trusting him once before. He might be telling the truth this time—but then again, he might not. And my friends’ lives depended on my ability to read him.

  “Sujin warned Captain Hwan to stay away,” I said carefully, “but he’s going to come down here anyway, with some heavy-duty protection magic.” I was half bluffing, but I assumed that the captain would bring some kind of defense. “That can’t be good for ghosts, no matter which side you’re on.”

  “The only side I’m on is yours, Min.”

  I wanted to believe him. I loved my brother, and things would be so much better if I could trust him.

  “Then why did you lead us into a trap?”

  “I wanted the crew to think I was still one of them, rather than abandoning them for my sister,” Jun said. “I thought it would give me more control of the situation so I could protect you.”

  Protect you. That sounded like the Jun I knew.

  “Thank you,” I said softly.

  “Besides, you did need shelter. Cadet Sujin isn’t looking so great. You don’t want them to come down sick, not on this planet.”

  I winced, hoping we’d all avoid the plague like, well, the plague.

  “I was going to help you escape eventually,” Jun went on, “but you did it before I could.”

  “I didn’t want to stick around to be meat for the captain’s quest,” I retorted.

  Jun’s rueful smile flickered so quickly I almost wasn’t sure I’d glimpsed it. “If I’d really wanted to hand you over to him,” he said, “I wouldn’t have let you slip off like that. The other crew members might not recognize when they’re being Charmed, but I certainly do.”

  I couldn’t argue that point. “Good to know,” I said. “I’m still learning about . . . er, you know . . .”

  “Ghosts?” he finished. “It’s okay, you can say it. I know what I am.”

  There were a hundred things I wanted to tell him, but I couldn’t think where to start. So I just said, “Someone came to our home on Jinju and said you deserted. I knew you hadn’t, though.”

  His smile returned, lasting longer this time. “I appreciate that,” he said. He didn’t sound like a bitter, vindictive ghost at all. “That means a lot. So does your coming here. I thought I’d never see you again.”

  My throat closed up. When I was able to speak, I said, “I wanted to find you and the Dragon Pearl, to bring you both home. I failed. . . .” Tears pricked my eyes.

  “We’ll figure it out, Min. I promise,” he said in that reassuring older-brother way he had. “Right now, we have to deal with the fact that Captain Hwan is on the way.”

  Once Jun and I were done talking, I woke Haneul and Sujin. When Haneul saw Jun, she started, and her eyes clouded.

  “My brother came to help us,” I explained.

  “Why should we trust him?’ Haneul asked suspiciously.

  “Lots of reasons,” said Jun. “First, I can Charm the other ghosts. They are bent on getting revenge on Captain Hwan by driving him mad. But that isn’t going to bring rest to anyone.”

  Sujin wore a thoughtful expression. “So you’re going to help the captain?” they asked. “After all, you were willing to work with him once before. . . .”

  “That was a lifetime ago,” Jun said with macabre humor. “Now he’s threatened my sister and her friends”—he made a sweeping gesture to indicate Sujin and Haneul—“and he wants to use the Pearl as a weapon. If it comes to that, I’ll do everything I can against him. I haven’t been a ghost for very long, but I might be able to bring him bad luck.”

  “Useful to know,” Haneul said in an undertone. She was frowning. I wondered if she was worried about facing court-martial.

  “Second, I can lead you to the Pearl,” Jun said. “I know where it is—the exact location.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” I asked. “Let’s get going before Hwan beats us to it. If we reach it first, we’ll have a bargaining chip.”

  And with that, we broke camp and headed into the moon-silvered night.

  When the rain returned, trudging through the mud and sodden underbrush felt worse than before, maybe because we’d had a chance to rest and dry off a little. Every time I accidentally splashed into a puddle, I was reminded of the threadbare comfort I’d found not long ago in the emergency tent. But the others didn’t complain, so neither did I.

  Jun floated ahead of us. I envied his lack of legs and the fact that he didn’t have to care about getting wet. Almost as soon as I had that thought I realized how stupid it was. It couldn’t have been fun to be a ghost on a deserted planet. My face burned with shame.

  The winds rose around us again. “They’re coming,” Jun said quietly.

  Haneul turned toward me. I had mistaken the beaded moisture on her brow and nose for rain, but some of it had to be perspiration, considering the smell that was rolling off her. Was she getting sick, or struggling to keep the storm in check, or both? “I can only do so much with my weather magic,” she said, her voice quavering just slightly. “Here the ghosts rule. I think—”

  She never got to finish, because the darkness lit up in a cascade of white fire. At first I thought we were under attack, some kind of bombardment. But the fire brought no heat, only waves of chill that sliced to the bone. Then I remembered: White was the color of the dead.

  Soon we were surrounded by the glow of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of ghosts, unnaturally bright in the last hours of the night.

  Jun stopped. Haneul, Sujin, and I banded together behind him, as if he could shield us from the spirits’ anger. As they stared accusingly at us with their blank, dark eyes, I felt the weight of their judgment.

  Voices rose and ebbed in the wind. I quelled a surge of despair. How were we going to get past all those ghosts? They might not have any physical presence, but they could confuse us with hallucinations. I’d heard stories of ghost-crazed people running off cliffs or jumping into rivers. As long as the spirits could reach into our minds, we were in danger, especially on unfamiliar terrain.

  Swallowing, I stepped up until I was standing side by side with my brother. Haneul warned me against it, but I had no attention to spare for her.

  What I had at first mistaken for a mass of identical spirits, all with ragged long hair and no legs, resolved into unique individuals as I got closer. In the front ranks I saw a woman wearing a robe. Its embroidery would once have displayed lucky colors, but now all I saw were traceries of black upon gray. Another was an elderly man holding hands with a child who carried a stuffed bear. I saw Space Forces officers in full uniform, and figures wearing clothes in styles I’d only seen in historical holos, fashions from two centuries ago.

  Once upon a time these ghosts had been people as distinctive as Haneul or Sujin or me, as unforgettable as power-hungry Captain Hwan or greedy Nari. They might be united in their anger, but that didn’t mean they all wanted the same thing . . . or did it?

  They had something besides anger in common. All of them had emaciated faces, the bones of their skulls showing prominently, as if ready to erupt through the skin. They didn’t have the gruesome lesions of smallpox, the disease that gods had once wielded to teach humankind respect, but the ravages of their illness looked grotesque enough.

  One of the ghosts, the robed woman, stepped forward. “Fox,” she said. “Dragon. Dokkaebi.”

  “Honored ancestor,” I said with a bow, but my voice sounded hollow even to myself. I threw some Charm her way, hoping to keep any ghostly bad luck or mind control at bay.

  “Tiger,” the woman added.

  I gasped. As one, Haneul, Sujin, and I turned to look back the way we’d come.

  A shuttle painted with the white tiger emblem of the Pale Lightning was streaking down from the sky. We couldn’t see who was inside, but I had no doubt the ghost was correct. Captain Hwan had tracked us down, and the ghosts had allowed him throu
gh.

  “What are we going to do? We can’t outrun ghosts,” Sujin said through gritted teeth.

  We were trapped.

  I looked to Jun for answers, but he remained silent, his gaze locked on the ship as it landed. The ghosts parted for it, but I imagined the captain wasn’t under any illusions that he was safe. Angry spirits weren’t the kind of threat he was used to confronting as a military officer.

  I cast my eyes frantically among the ghosts, searching for any clue as to the Pearl’s whereabouts. This was my last chance—I had to reach it before Hwan did. If I succeeded in finding it, maybe I could bargain with him. My friends and I could get a ride to safety, and he could promise not to persecute us. In exchange, I could give him the Pearl and . . .

  . . . steal it back before he had a chance to exploit it.

  Or he could simply use his superior firepower to take it from me. But I preferred the first plan.

  I scanned the landscape. In one direction, small hills furry with grass rippled away from the forest. In the other, boulders stippled the ground up until what looked like a steep drop-off. I thought back to Captain Hwan’s map, and my heart sank. From what I remembered, the Dragon Pearl lay beyond that cliff.

  If I broke away from Haneul and Sujin, they would think I was abandoning them to Captain Hwan. They might never forgive me. Still, I knew what I had to do.

  “Jun,” I whispered, “show me where the Pearl is.” I needed to reach it as quickly as possible. The less time I had to spend searching for it, the better.

  Jun smiled at me, and for the first time the wrecked asymmetry of his face didn’t gnaw at my insides. “How fast can you run, little sister?”

  “Run?” I said to him with a grin, despite the desperate situation. “I can do better than run.” Certainly a fellow fox should know that. I wish I’d thought of shifting into a faster shape earlier, when we were trudging through the mud. Then again, I wouldn’t have wanted to leave Haneul and Sujin behind.

  I turned to my friends. “I’ll be back shortly. In the meantime, keep the ghosts distracted.”

  “Min, wait! There’s something you should—” Haneul shouted after me, but Sujin had elbowed her, and I was already shifting.