Silvern (The Gilded Series)

by Farley, Christina

  I stare at the picture behind me of the little girl, lying on a mat in a barren concrete house. I don’t know her name, but I want to. Nearly everyone is exiting the gym to head outside to the soccer field, except Kang-dae, so I scribble my wish onto the lantern.

  To be powerful enough to stop the evil.

  As Kang-dae and I carry our lanterns outside, he points to mine.

  “Interesting wish,” he says.

  My cheeks warm as I realize he saw my wish. “What did you wish for?” I say.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  I pause at the top of the gym steps. Below on the soccer field, all the kids are spread out, lighting their lanterns and releasing their wishes into the sky, a canvas of colors.

  “Actually I do,” I say. “You saw mine; it’s only fair I know yours.”

  He laughs and hurries down the steps out to the field. By the time I reach him, he’s already prepping to light it. I dive to grab the lantern, but he holds it high out of my reach.

  “Are you planning on standing like that the rest of the night?” I ask, laughing.

  His lips twitch. “I suppose you’ve got a point.”

  He fakes left and moves right, but my reflexes are too fast. I block his way and snatch for the lantern. One word is scrawled across the rice paper’s surface. My heart skitters as I see it.

  Jae

  I don’t know if I’m flattered, angry, or scared. The lantern flutters from my fingers to the turf. Kang-dae silently picks it up and stares at my name.

  “Now you know why you weren’t supposed to read it?” he asks, and comes closer to me. Dangerously close. His breath practically whispers against my forehead.

  I look away, and that’s when I see Marc. Standing at the edge of the field, his expression unreadable in the night shadows.

  I’ve done nothing wrong, yet as we stare at each other from across the distance, it’s as if I’ve betrayed him.

  When I race to him, I stop short of throwing my arms around his neck like I usually do, unsure of that look in his eyes. He doesn’t wrap me in his arms either. Instead, I stand there, cold and awkwardly scraping my heels along the crack in the sidewalk while he focuses on the field of students.

  “You and Kang-dae have become pretty good friends.” Marc’s voice is wary.

  “It’s not like that,” I say, even though I know it kind of is. Especially now that I know Kang-dae’s wish. I glance over at Kang-dae and see him lighting both our lanterns. They lift into the sky. But it’s all just for fun, isn’t it? It isn’t like these wishes actually come true.

  “A gwishin came for me in the bathroom. Kang-dae showed up and scared it off.”

  For a moment, the wall of anger in his face cracks, and worry fills his eyes. “Are you okay? I shouldn’t have left you alone. I knew it was a bad idea.”

  “I’m fine. Somehow, I was able to pull away from it,” I say. “Kang-dae was there to help.”

  “How convenient.” His jaw clenches. “I know Kang-dae is a Guardian, but I still don’t like him.”

  “Don’t be jealous. He’s cocky as all get-out, but you know you’re the only guy for me. If it wasn’t for him, who knows what would’ve happened in the bathroom?”

  “I didn’t realize I was so easily replaced.”

  “It’s not like that and you know it. Stop being this way.”

  “We had a good reason for being late.” Marc twists his ring around his finger. “We were attacked by a group of dokkaebi.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t so bad. They just like to cause trouble. Flattened our tires at a stoplight and then ran off. We tried to chase them down, but they disappeared.”

  “You should’ve called me.”

  “You’re right, but I wanted you to enjoy your night. Not get phone calls about mythological creatures.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. We are a team. Your problems and mine, and vice versa.”

  “A team?” He shakes his head. “And is Kang-dae on this team?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “I saw how he was looking at you. How he always looks at you.” Marc runs his hands through his hair. “Jae, I just wanted to give you a night off. One of these days it’s all going to go to hell. I don’t want you to be around when that happens.”

  The thing is, he knows I don’t want him involved with the Guardians of Shinshi, and I know he doesn’t want me to go on this mission.

  And that’s how it ends. Both of us angry, with nothing else to say to each other. He leaves, and I catch a ride home with Michelle. As we drive through the streets of Yonhi-Dong, I realize Kang-dae went home without saying good-bye. Not that I expected him to. I’m mad at him, too. If he’d just left me be, none of this would’ve happened.

  My suitcase, resting against the plastic chairs lining the bus terminal, looks like a beat-up, dull, and unsparkly version of Michelle’s, which is practically twice the size of mine. I check my pouch one more time to make sure I have my temporary passport, which is what I’ll use to enter North Korea. Regular American passports are strictly prohibited.

  Dad pats my shoulder. “I’m proud of you for taking on this project. It will help so many people.”

  I nod, not ready to look him in the face. I can’t tell him the truth, or he’d flip out. He was against everything with Haemosu. I can’t blame him, because for so long, he had accused Haraboji of inventing Haemosu’s existence as an explanation for my other aunt’s disappearance. But if I hadn’t listened to Grandfather and Komo, I know I would’ve been one of the kidnapped souls myself.

  Grandfather comes up to our group and waves us together. A man trails behind him, lugging a compact suitcase and wearing khaki pants and a dark-brown shirt. A crisp white name tag is stitched into his navy-colored Windbreaker.

  Park Chu-won is written in Korean across it.

  His dark hair is neatly combed to the side, and there’s an easy, carefree grin stretched over his face. From the man’s slight build and relaxed shoulders, I’d bet he’s never been trapped in a room with mythical creatures before. I rub my wrist, hoping Grandfather knows what he’s doing by bringing a clueless tour guide with us.

  Or maybe I’m completely paranoid and this trip will be smooth as a bamboo shoot.

  Marc, Michelle, Kang-dae, and I move toward him while Marc’s parents and my dad crowd around us. Michelle’s mom is pacing by the line of plastic seats, yelling at someone in Japanese, then switching to Korean and then back again.

  “Your mom okay?” I ask Michelle.

  “I don’t want to get into it.” Michelle crosses her arms and looks away with a shake of her head.

  The only person who doesn’t have family here is Kang-dae.

  “Welcome,” Grandfather says. “This is our guide, Chu-won. He’ll review the procedures with you one final time before we leave.”

  “I am very excited to be your guide this weekend,” Chu-won says, grinning and making the wrinkles edging out from his smiling eyes even more pronounced. “I will be traveling with you to the clinic and escorting you to the presentation ceremony. I also serve as the clinic’s mechanic and fix their equipment when I make my yearly visit. They will be pleased to see me twice this year. Now if you’ll bear with me as I review all the policies.” He takes out a clipboard and starts reading through it. “No laptops, cell phones, cameras with 160 millimeters, or binoculars with 10x zoom. Oh, and definitely no video cameras.”

  Kang-dae makes a disgruntled noise and mutters under his breath, “Is there anything we are allowed to bring?”

  “I feel like I’m going on detox,” mutters Michelle. “I’ve only been parted with my phone for five minutes, and I’m already going into withdrawal.”

  “I have all of your reentry permits already,” Chu-won continues. Then he hands each of us a small booklet
with our passport information in it and two other cards. “This you will keep as your temporary passport. You also have your debit card to use in the tourist zone. This will pay for any of your needs. The final card will be your embarkation card. Put all three of those in this plastic sheath, and make sure you wear it at all times when in the tourist zone.”

  “What if we lose this?” I ask.

  “Don’t.” Chu-won’s smile drops into a frown.

  “Uncanny how quickly our happy tour guide can turn on us,” Marc jokes into my ear.

  The twinkle in Marc’s eyes sends a flicker of optimism through me. Maybe he’s not mad anymore. Maybe we can get back to the way things used to be. But then my eyes fall on Kang-dae leaning against one of the plastic terminal chairs, methodically rubbing the stubble on his chin as if in deep thought. With Kang-dae on the trip, I doubt anything will be normal.

  The whole process is a bit daunting. I arrange my cards in the exact way Chu-won tells us to. Once my plastic pouch passes our guide’s approval, I hang it over my head, the strap already scratching against the skin on the back of my neck. Next we are each given a tag for our bags. Dad helps secure mine, pulling apart the plastic and then sticking the ends together so they line up perfectly.

  Ms. Myong, Michelle’s mom, joins us; her black leather boots that stretch up her thin legs practically make music as she moves. From her sleek navy rain jacket to a slicked-back ponytail, she has the air of someone who gets what she wants. She flashes me a polite, distant smile and tugs on Michelle’s arm.

  “What?” Michelle mumbles under her breath. “I need to pay attention.”

  I’ve never actually held a conversation longer than two minutes with Ms. Myong. As a traveling journalist, she’s rarely at home, and I always get the distinct feeling that she believes I’m not to the standard her daughter should be hanging out with.

  “Just take the damn pictures,” Ms. Myong whispers, and then passes Michelle a tiny black box that settles easily in her palm. “It’s hardly complicated.”

  Michelle lifts her eyebrows as if daring her mom to change her mind. They stare at each other for a half second before Michelle tucks what I’m guessing is a camera into her pocket.

  “Time to say your good-byes,” Chu-won announces to our group. “In order to make it to the border on time, we must follow a strict schedule.”

  “I guess this is it,” Dad says. A pained look crosses his face. He unbuttons his black suit jacket, only to button it again, but now the buttons are off by one. “Follow the rules. Do not go into unsupervised places. They shoot people who do, remember that.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad,” I say, fixing his buttons so they are even. “I’ll be fine. I’ll bring you back a souvenir or something.”

  He takes both my hands in his and clasps them, squeezing once. “Yes. A souvenir. That would be nice.”

  He kisses my forehead and lets go. As I step away, grasping my suitcase handle tight, the closeness of him fades and I feel a sense of loss.

  I clamber onto the bus with the others and deposit my suitcase on the top rack. The back of the bus is filled with boxes of medicine that we’re delivering. Hopefully that will keep the border officials from giving us any reason not to gain entry into North Korea.

  When I slide into one of the window seats, Michelle plops down next to me, twiddling the black box between her fingers, staring at the seat back. Marc and Kang-dae climb into the seats behind us.

  Outside, our parents crowd along the curb and wave us off as we pull out of the bus station. Michelle’s mom is back on her phone, her red lips moving a mile a minute. She’s not even looking at the bus.

  Dad doesn’t wave. His hands remain in his pants pockets. His face looks lost, and his shoulders are slightly stooped. I press my palm against the glass, remembering how tightly he’d held my hand only minutes ago. Just as the bus turns the curb, I see him wipe the back of his hand against the corner of his eye.

  I bite my lips, falling back against my hard vinyl seat. Is Dad crying? No, he doesn’t cry. At Mom’s funeral, he might have. I can’t remember. I was too lost in my own grief to notice the world around me, then. This must have been my imagination.

  “You okay?” Michelle asks.

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure if my dad is. I don’t know what he’d do if he lost me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “North Korea doesn’t want to start a war by hurting a bunch of kids delivering medical supplies.”

  “I heard what your mom said,” I say, studying Michelle’s face. “That’s got a long-range lens, doesn’t it?”

  Michelle bites the inside of her lip and shrugs. “Umma thinks she has it all figured out.”

  “So you’re not going to take the pictures?”

  “I’m going on this trip to help bring medicine.” Michelle lifts her chin. “Not start a war. This is my trip, and I’m going to do what I think needs to be done.”

  I think about Michelle’s words as I stare out my window, watching the rice fields spread out before me. She’s talking about a physical war while I’m trying to stop a spiritual one. Perhaps we are more alike than I thought.

  We drive through smaller towns, but soon it becomes fairly rural. The landscape grows more forested, and we pass massive camouflaged concrete structures.

  “What are those for?” I ask our guide.

  “They’re positioned so that if things fall apart between North and South Korea, they can push the two barriers into the road. They’re made to interlock, so it’s a quick roadblock if the North decides to send down its troops.”

  It never ceases to amaze me how the two countries could be separated so completely. The farther we drive, the more I feel as if we’re entering a war zone. Barbed wire is strung around fields, and warning signs remind us to turn back. Yet at the same time, there are beautiful farms and sprawling houses that are so different from anything I’ve seen in Seoul.

  “We are entering the DMZ, which stands for the demilitarized zone. It’s the strip of land between the North and South and under heavy military rule. People get bonuses for living in the DMZ,” Chu-won explains. “The South wants to show off how prosperous they are to the North.”

  After we go through a checkpoint, our bus pulls into the parking lot of the Goseong Observatory. When I step out of the bus, the air smells like ocean, full of brine and whispers of wide-open spaces. Grandfather takes off to talk to some officials about our medical supplies. The guards will take the supplies from here and then meet us in Kumgangsan, where the supplies will be transferred back to us after they’ve been checked.

  Chu-won has us take out our suitcases and waves us to the main entrance of a white concrete building. “Refresh yourselves at the observatory until we are ready to go through customs,” he says.

  In the distance, I can make out the East Sea and two little islands. Coils of barbed wire string from the sea to as far inland as I can make out. Tanks, old aircraft, and military trucks are parked and roped off for viewing.

  “What an unusual place,” Michelle says. “We’re standing in a war zone, but this feels more like a tourist area.”

  “Shall we walk around?” Kang-dae asks.

  “I say we shall,” Michelle says with a big smile.

  We head into the lobby, which is full of vendors selling food, hats, and sunglasses. Michelle’s right, the atmosphere reminds me more of a tourist attraction than a military zone. There’s even a museum here. The room smells of dried fish and kimchi, and my stomach rumbles. Michelle nudges me when the guys go buy some drinks. “If Kang-dae wasn’t all hotness, I’d wonder which century he belonged in.”

  “That’s probably because he’s one of the psychotic Guardians obsessed with protecting me,” I say sourly.

  “They are both part of the group?” Michelle asks.

  “Unfortunately, they think I
can’t handle things myself.” I shrug. “Whatever. It’s fine. I wanted Marc to come, but Kang-dae—” I decide not to finish that thought because it reminds me too much of Kang-dae’s hot breath against my forehead, and I can already feel that stab of guilt.

  “At least they’re nice to look at,” Michelle says. “I’m thinking of making a move on Kang-dae.”

  I don’t want to go there. “I’m going to buy some kimbap. You?”

  Michelle joins me, and soon we join the guys and head upstairs to the observation deck. The entire observatory is oddly barren, with only a few families looking through the binoculars and an elderly couple taking pictures. Evidently it was built for big crowds that never came. Outside the overbearing gates, construction trucks and supplies are parked in random places on the roadside, forgotten. They were probably brought in hopes of a reunification. But the place has an air of desertion, like it’s been forgotten and left behind.

  From up top, we have a perfect view of the coast where swift, unending currents roll onto the sand. The brown beaches merge into rolling hills that grow into staggering jagged peaks. The first thing I’m surprised about is how brown and dry the land looks, a sharp contrast to the area we just passed through. The entire landscape is free of trees except for the area we’ll be heading toward.

  “Looks pretty desolate,” Marc says as he takes in the scene through the scope. “Most of the trees in North Korea were cut down to provide heating during the winters.”

  “We’ve got a walking encyclopedia in our midst,” Kang-dae mutters next to me.

  “Which isn’t a bad thing. I like knowing what’s going on.” I cross my arms and step away from him.

  “A keeper, then?” He lifts his eyebrows mockingly.

  That comment isn’t even worth acknowledging. I’m adjusting the tag strapped around my neck when I notice him pull out a phone from his pocket. He starts texting on it.

  “You do remember Chu-won said not to bring cell phones.” I give Kang-dae a pointed look.