Silvern (The Gilded Series)

by Farley, Christina

  “This land you see belongs to you now,” Palk says, completely avoiding my question. “It beckons your healing touch.”

  I resist laughing, tempting as it is. “I’m usually the girl you call when you need someone to beat up your enemy.”

  Palk sighs. “You see that streak of green below. Just your presence here awakens the land. It takes on the power within you.”

  I bite my lip. I hate how he’s always right. “Isn’t it the other way around?” I ask. “Doesn’t the land give power to me?”

  “The land brings you, its rightful ruler, power,” Palk says. “You determine how the power will be used: to heal, to morph. Haemosu collected it to increase his power in the human world.”

  “Will it help me find Komo? Her spirit is lost. She’s been in a coma.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Perhaps? That’s all you have to say? She spent her life training in battle and studying Haemosu and his tactics all so that she could save me. Me, the niece she never met. I can’t leave her alone in a coma. I have to help her.”

  “And so you shall. The time will come, and the decision will be set before you.”

  “Coming here was a waste of time, then, if I’m supposed to sit around and wait for the perfect time. I can’t do that. I need answers, and if you can’t give them to me, I’ll find someone who can. I’m supposed to meet Marc soon, and he’d be upset if he knew I was here.”

  “The Spirit World needs you.” Palk’s face focuses on me, grim and far too serious for my taste. “Haemosu has left us with an imbalance perilous to both the human and spirit worlds. Kud’s power grows, and yet we here in the Spirit World cannot reach him.”

  “Kud.” I clench my fists. “He threatened me. Said he would kill my family if I didn’t find the White Tiger orb for him.”

  “His threats are not to be taken lightly,” Palk says. “If you agree to join us and rule this land, he would leave you alone. Without that special ability to enter your world and ours and still hold power in both, you would no longer be valuable to him.”

  I gape at Palk, shaking my head. “I can’t leave my family and friends. They mean too much to me.”

  “Of course. And yet, this may be to our advantage. As a mortal, you have access to places we immortals do not. If the orb were returned to the Heavenly Chest, it would make us stronger on this side, give us the upper hand against Kud’s power. It is the risk that worries me.”

  Deep down I know he’s right. I was the one who defeated Haemosu when none of my other ancestors could achieve this. Moments ago, I touched the trees and they burst green. But no one can seem to understand that I don’t want this. I never wanted any of this. I wanted a normal life, hanging out with Marc, my family, and my friends.

  “What do you mean by ‘this side’? Isn’t Kud in the Spirit World, too?”

  Palk waves his hand and the world shudders. I grip the railing as the ground races before us as if flying away at an impossible speed. Yet Palk and I remain, standing on the pagoda.

  Seas and islands and snowcapped mountains sail beneath us.

  “The Spirit World,” I whisper.

  “Yes.” Palk draws his hand into a fist, and we come to a screeching stop. “It needs you.”

  I back away. This is way too complicated. Why can’t everything be simple? Like, Hey, you did a great job with Haemosu, so we’re going to leave you alone to live happily ever after.

  I’m about to turn away when he takes my hand. After my experiences with Haemosu, this freaks me out. But before I can break into a roundhouse, a sense of peace wraps over me. A glow emanates over our hands and grows until we’re completely surrounded in a ball of glittery light. A blast erupts, and the light explodes like fireworks around us. Everything around us vanishes, and the light trickles away into a million stars.

  We’re hanging in the center of darkness, the stars swirling around us. My whole body shakes from the shock of what has just happened, is still happening. I’ve seen a lot over the last three months, but this is taking things to a new dimension.

  “Look into the distance,” Palk says.

  I follow his gaze. There at the edge of the nothing lies a red river, snaking through the emptiness like a sea of blood. It bubbles, and steam curls into the nothingness. We float closer until it’s as if we’re standing at the edge of the starry sky. A blast of air hits us, sending my long hair whipping around my face. Deep within my chest, a mixture of anger and fear and terror swirls inside me.

  “Do you feel it?” Palk asks.

  I nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

  “Kud has stolen the Red Phoenix orb and is using it to build his own empire in the north. He has caused a rift in the Spirit World, dividing Korea. We have no access to his lands, and because our powers are weak in the human world, we cannot enter his portals from there either. His land is slowly stretching deeper and deeper into darkness and isolation. He feeds off the darkness that grows within North Korea. Even I am powerless to stop him unless I use the two orbs from the Heavenly Chest to break the seal of the divide. But the toll it would take on your world would be catastrophic. It would mean war.”

  “So you are asking me to find the White Tiger orb?” I stare at him in horror at how much bigger this is than I’d thought. “But what if I fail?”

  He smiles. “Princess Yuhwa’s blood still runs through you. And though that is true of all your ancestors, you were the one brave enough to stand up to Haemosu. You were the only one to be successful after centuries of bondage. You still have power in both worlds. At least for now.”

  “I don’t understand.” But that’s a lie. I know exactly what he means. “There’s got to be someone else. I might be good at fighting, but this is way beyond what I can do.”

  “I have tried.” He sighs, stroking his pointed white beard. “No one has entered Kud’s lands and lived to speak of it. Until you. He forced you into his land without asking. And you found your way out.”

  Yay for me. I get dragged through a mirror into Kud’s sick world, get terrorized, and this is how I’m rewarded. “He let me go. That’s the only way to explain it.”

  “Yes, interesting, is it not?”

  I can’t believe I’m getting drawn back into the Spirit World’s problems. Why won’t everybody leave me alone?

  As if reading my thoughts, Palk says, “This is not something to be taken lightly.”

  “I don’t take it lightly.” How could I after all I’ve been through? “I’ve agreed to help the Council of Shinshi search for the White Tiger orb. They’re worried that Kud will find it first, and since it’s a seeker orb, he’ll then find the others.”

  “You plan to enter the northern lands?”

  “I’ll look for the orb. If we find it, I’ll bring it back to you. But I can’t save Haemosu’s lands. I can’t give up my family for this.”

  “A great light shines in the Cave of the Nine Dragons.” Palk looks at me. “Our powers are not strong enough to travel long in the human lands, and the northern lands are all under the power of Kud. Perhaps this cave will give you the answers you seek.”

  The Cave of the Nine Dragons. I haven’t the faintest idea where this is, but I’m certain Marc will know.

  “If Kud gains possession of another orb, his power will only increase,” Palk says. “This is the risk you take in seeking out this artifact. He has been looking for all the orbs for endless ages. They have been well hidden. It is hard to foresee if this is the best step.”

  “I’m not certain of anything. I just get this feeling that he’s closer to the orb than we realize, and that worries me.”

  Palk stares hard at the blood-red river, serving as a boundary between the two lands. Crimson reflects against his face, and his forehead wrinkles. “You are right to worry.” He turns and claps both hands on my shoulders. “This is the path that has been set before you. Take it and
use your powers with wisdom and strength. Both will be needed for success.”

  His form seems to be pulling away from me. I watch him growing farther and farther away, as if we’re in an endless tunnel. I reach out, already missing that feeling of strength that I realize I was drawing from him.

  “Seek also your komo,” Palk’s voice calls from the distance. “She holds a key that must not die with her.”

  His words hit hard. Does he believe she’s dying? What does she hold? Why must everything be so cryptic with him?

  Before I can fully wrap my head around everything Palk said, I’m tumbling into the soft grass of the archery center. Fantastic. I’m back in Seoul and feeling more clueless than when I left. People are glancing over at me, muttering to each other, but I don’t care what they think. I find my bow, and I wrap my fingers around its smooth wooden surface, and I draw it close. A tingle skitters through my body, making me smile. It’s as if my bow understands what I’m going through.

  Even if I can’t.

  It’s a quick taxi ride from the archery center to Marc’s house in Sungbuk-Dong. This neighborhood of Seoul sits on the hill right behind the Blue House where the president lives. Most of the houses are similar in style to Marc’s family’s home, two stories high and cream colored.

  I ring the doorbell, my bow strapped to my back and a bag of Marc’s favorite food—Indian—tucked against my chest. His house is an eclectic mix of modern and traditional, with slick contemporary rooflines yet windows with Korean-style geometric wooden panes. A low stone wall surrounds the house, and an iron gate opens out to a courtyard.

  As I wait, I study the view from the stoop. Pruned bushes border the walls, and a pebbled pathway leads to a stone fountain. Two cherry trees are planted on either side of the house like sentinels. Beyond the courtyard, the view of downtown Seoul sweeps before me. The high-rises glisten in the setting sun, reflecting pumpkin- and scarlet-colored streaks of light.

  I blow the loose strands from my face and rap on the door.

  Then it swings open. “Well, well,” Marc says. “What do we have here?”

  I take in the sight of him: wild brown hair, that right dimple that shows up every time he smiles. The casual look he tries to wear with his faded jeans and gray archeaology shirt is such a sharp contrast to the intensity in his green eyes.

  But it’s more than all of that. It’s his presence that fills the space between us. It’s the way his eyes drink in the sight of me as if he doesn’t ever want to forget who I am.

  He blocks the entrance with his arms extended as if holding up the doorframe. The muscles on his arms are stretched taut, and I wonder if he’s been working out.

  “What can I do for you, ma’am?” he asks, eyebrows rising and face deadpan.

  I huff and roll my eyes, but a smile still creeps across my face. “Just let me in, you silly boy. I’m starving.” I hold up the bag. “I brought chicken marsala and naan. Your favorite.”

  “Tempting.” He snatches the bag from me and peers inside.

  I move to duck under his arm, but he slides his body to block me.

  “Not so fast, Fighter Girl. As enticing as this food is, it gains you no entrance here.” He cups my chin with his hand. “It’ll have to be something more lasting than that.”

  Then his lips are on mine, and the bag of food slips to the floor, forgotten. I drink in his kiss, long and soft. He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead, as if he doesn’t want to ever let me go.

  “I missed you,” he whispers into my ear.

  When we finally part, every muscle in me aches to cling to him. His skin feels warm against mine, chilled from the evening air. He trails his finger from my ear to my chin, and his breath tickles my forehead. I can barely think straight when he looks at me like I’m the moon and stars all wrapped into one.

  I drag my palms over his chest and shoulders. His muscles are harder and more sculpted than I remember.

  “You’ve been working out?” I ask.

  He grins and taps his finger against my lips. “Nothing gets past my Fighter Girl. Jung has been giving me sword-fighting lessons every Saturday. A requirement for all Guardians.”

  “I didn’t realize it was every weekend.” I straighten the collar of his shirt.

  He kisses me again, harder this time. Almost as if he’s worried it will be his last.

  “I wouldn’t complain if we did this all night,” Marc says huskily, finally breaking away.

  “I take it your parents aren’t home.” I finger the edge of his shirt, not quite wanting to let him go.

  “They’re at a Yonsei event. You’ll have to enter at your own risk. There’s no one here to keep me in check.”

  I lightly smack him on his chest as he lets me inside.

  I’m always shocked when I enter Marc’s house. It’s such an odd contrast to my dad’s and mine, which is stark, clean, and modern. After I kick off my shoes, I trail after Marc, ascending up the stairs.

  The photographs and medals awarded to his family members climb up the wall like perfect soldiers all the way to the top of the staircase. I wonder if his dad is proud of him now that he’s made Guardian status, and if that alone would be enough to contribute to their family legacy.

  “Too bad the Guardians are so secretive,” I say. “Otherwise your parents could place a plaque here in your honor.”

  Marc pauses midstride and glances at the wall. A pained look slips over his face, but it’s gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.

  At the top of the stairs, we enter the living room. There are wooden crates everywhere, some opened. Scattered around the crates are pots that reach my hips, wooden statues, painted urns, silk paintings. The place smells like a library, a mix of old books and wood.

  “What is all this?” I ask.

  “Junk my parents picked up on their last trip to Norway.”

  “I didn’t think they had room for anything new.”

  “Not new.” Marc chuckles, squeezing past a large wooden crate. “Old. Very old.”

  I follow him to the kitchen, weaving past a miniature Viking ship, several wooden warriors, and a giant bronze shield. I cross my fingers with every step, terrified I’m going to break something, since I’m so good at that sort of thing.

  “The Norwegians actually let your parents leave the country with this stuff?”

  My leg knocks against a stack of books. I dive, grasping for the tower to keep the teetering stack from falling. As I straighten them, dust cakes my palms. These look so old I bet if they’d fallen, they would’ve turned to dust.

  “Unfortunately.” Marc sets the bag on the counter and starts pulling out plates. “They’re actually replicas for my parents to study. Dad wanted to put the warriors on top of the bookshelf, but they’re too tall. So now they get to guard the door until he can find a different place for them. I have to admit, I’m jealous. They should’ve taken me.”

  “You guys need another house to put all this stuff in,” I say as I rip off a piece of naan and pop it into my mouth. It’s still warm and soft.

  “No way. And whatever you do, don’t give them that idea. It’ll mean more space for them to gather more junk.”

  We load our plates with rice, chicken, and naan. I sit on a bench at what looks like a replica of a Nordic farmhouse table. Marc slides aside the pile of books and unrolled maps and sits across from me. They’re maps of North Korea.

  “You’ve been busy!” I say.

  He nods and points out where our entry point will be and where we’ll be delivering the supplies.

  “Other than that,” he says, “I’m not sure where we should look for the orb. According to this legend, there is reference to a magical artifact near Kunsong in 1231, after the Mongol invasion. A stone helped repel the Mongols and gave the Koreans a victory. But those are just stories. Who knows what parts are real or not.”
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  “You’ve already found all of this?” I say. “That’s really good research.”

  “What can I say? Research is my thing.” He shakes his head as he scoops a chunk of chicken up with his naan. “It’s no wonder Korea gets its butt kicked over and over. The orbs, which are supposed to be its protection, have been lost.”

  I swirl my naan through the sauce, wondering how I’m going to bring up the cave. He’ll want to know how I found out about it.

  Should I tell him the truth? That I went to the Spirit World?

  “What is it? You’re not telling me something.”

  “Have you ever heard of the Cave of the Nine Dragons?”

  “Of course. I’ve read the myths.” Marc drops his bread and gives me a wary look. “Why?”

  “I was thinking that might be a good place to start. It’s a sacred area, isn’t it?”

  He frowns. “Who have you been talking to?”

  Now it’s my turn to frown. I set my fork down and lean back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve been to the Spirit World, haven’t you?”

  I sit taller, hating his tone, as if he’s accusing me. “Yes, I have. You make it sound like I’ve done something wrong.”

  “That’s not it.” Marc sighs. “I swear, I wish you would stay away from that place. One of these days you’re going to go there and never come back.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “There’s something else. I’ve been doing some research.”

  “Enough with the research. We can’t even have a meal together without the research.”

  I rest my head in my hands. Tears threaten to burst out. I hate crying. It’s a sign of weakness, and after everything Haemosu did to my family, I promised myself I’d be strong. I’d be the one who would fight to the end. I would be standing tall, no groveling.

  Marc moves to my side of the table and pulls me to him. I don’t push him away, because the reality is I need him. Sure, I’d never actually admit it, but his arm reassures me he’ll always be there for me.