Silvern (The Gilded Series)

by Farley, Christina

  Marc scowls at Kang-dae.

  “Knock it off,” I say, “or I’ll knock some sense into the two of you.”

  I push Kang-dae through the door before they decide it’s best to fight this out. Inside, an attendant meets us and directs us down a hallway. She explains how we’ll come to the stage to present our gift, and there the director of the tuberculosis clinics, Gwangsoo Han, will accept it.

  Michelle hooks her arm through mine and squeezes me. “This was the best idea ever,” she says. “I’m so glad we did this.”

  I nod in agreement, my chest tight with excitement. So far, this whole mission has been a success. I wonder if I’d ever have done this if I hadn’t had to get the orb. Would I have continued on with my own life, not thinking about a whole country only thirty miles from where I lived? People die from TB every night, while I live in comfort.

  All the kids in NHS flash through my mind, eager to make a change in the world. I’ve spent most of my life thinking only of my own troubles, and not just here in Seoul. After Mom died, I wallowed in my own misery. I’m hardly the person to be standing on that stage passing out the medicine. But here I am.

  We follow the attendant through a narrow door and down a fluorescent-lit corridor. The pale light yellows our skin and washes out the colors of our clothes. Our boots click on the linoleum, breaking the silence of the corridors. Beside me, Marc’s tension grows. His body is stiff and his jaw tight.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever look at long creepy corridors the same again,” Michelle mumbles, and she sidles next to Kang-dae, hooking her arm with his.

  “What?” Kang-dae says dryly. “Now I’m your bodyguard? When will the demands end?”

  We enter another door that takes us to a backstage area. I shake hands with the show director and nod respectfully to some of the performers.

  They whisper and glance our way from the corners of the room. Their makeup looks overdone in the backstage area without the lights to fade it. Outside, the audience chatters in hushed whispers. There’s a sense of foreboding as we wait, and I can’t shake the urge to run.

  Every sound becomes amplified. A ladder squeaks as it’s dragged. A girl dressed in a full hanbok giggles. The director’s clipboard clatters onto the wooden floor. I want to press my hands over my ears, but Marc is already doing his nervous tics. He’s rubbing and tapping his chin, and he can’t seem to stop looking over his shoulder and staring at everyone and everything. If I freak out, he’s going to cancel the whole thing.

  Fortunately, Michelle breaks the crippling silence by going over to one of the actors and introducing herself. I stand frozen, afraid that if I move, the serenity will be broken. Kang-dae and Marc flank me. It’s becoming stifling, this constant shadowing. At least Kang-dae appears relaxed, lounging just behind me against the wall, a sly grin spread over his face.

  “Why are you grinning?” I ask. “This isn’t funny.”

  “If you saw it from my perspective,” he says, “you’d find it funny. It’s always about perspective, Princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “It annoys you, doesn’t it? You must be in denial.”

  I dig my nails into my palms. I’m going to lose it between these two Guardians.

  Finally, the director, dressed in all black with neatly combed hair, comes over to where we wait and directs us to follow him. I’m about to pass through the wings of the stage when I see a strange-looking bird sitting in the rafters above. It’s the oddest creature. A beak like a rooster, yet at the same time it almost looks like a swallow. The odd part is its neck, long and writhing like a snake.

  I freeze as it focuses on me. It blinks, sending my heart diving into my chest.

  “You okay?” Marc asks, resting his hand on my arm.

  I jerk my arm away and force myself back to the present. I refuse to let some magical beast control my life. Somehow I drag myself onto the stage with Marc and Kang-dae at either side. I manage to stand tall next to Michelle.

  “Something wrong?” Kang-dae asks.

  “Which direction?” Marc asks me from the other side.

  Figures. Marc doesn’t need me to say anything. He knows me well enough to identify that something is wrong. I ignore them both, clenching my fists. Nothing will ruin this moment for me.

  I’m determined.

  Grandfather hands Dr. Han a paper that details the medical supplies we have with us. Michelle then goes to the mic and explains what we’ve brought.

  “The students at Seoul Foreign have raised all the money to pay for these supplies,” she explains fluently in Korean. “And we’re hoping this is something we can do in future years.”

  The crowd claps politely. The nurses and doctors who have come to collect the supplies are also on the stage, and each of them comes over, bows, and thanks us. I return their bows, and my heart fills. Our group poses for pictures, and we step off the stage back into the audience, where they have saved seats for us.

  As I sit, I search for that strange bird, examining the ceiling. It’s gone. If I hadn’t gone through everything I’ve experienced, I would’ve thought it was just me imagining things. But I know better. It was real. I should tell Marc and Grandfather about it, but I’m sick of mythological creatures running my life. For once I want to sit here and enjoy this beautiful performance.

  The question is, whose side is that bird on, Palk’s or Kud’s?

  “Wasn’t that amazing?” Michelle asks, leaning over Kang-dae to talk to me.

  “It was,” I tell her. “I’m so glad we did this. Let’s do it again next year.”

  If I have another year.

  “I started drafting up the plans while you guys were hiking,” she says.

  The acrobatic show begins. I can hardly concentrate on the daring flips, the swirls of colors from the acrobats’ costumes, or the beams of lasers flashing like lightning across the stage. Now that the ceremony is over, all I can focus on are the possibilities of tomorrow and worrying about how we’re going to get into the Spirit World. Then there’s the question of whether to even give the orb up, and how to deal with Kud once he finds out that I’ve tricked him.

  Komo’s face comes to mind. Using this orb would give me the best chance of finding her. If I give this orb up, who knows if I’ll ever find her lost soul?

  Marc sits on one side, stiff as a board, while Kang-dae sits on my other side, slouched and relaxed.

  At the end of the show, when the performers are bowing to the audience, I see the bird once again. My mouth dries up and my skin chills. With a twist of its long neck, it spreads out its wings, spanning at least ten feet. It swoops above, soaring along the arched dome. Then it sails across the stage, curving around until it faces the audience. Its purple eyes focus on me as if it’s the tip of an arrow and I’m its mark. Soaring, the bird barrels toward me.

  I open my mouth to shout, but no sound comes out, just a croak. No one even glances up at the dark shadow plunging above them. Except for Marc and Kang-dae. They both leap to their feet. Marc shoves me behind him, while Kang-dae withdraws a stick that with a flick of his wrist doubles in size. A sharp blade projects from the end.

  “Fly, little one, fly!” the bird screeches out across the audience. “Before it is too late.”

  Kang-dae swipes at the air as it draws closer, but before the bird comes within reaching distance, it vanishes. Swearing, Kang-dae hits his bat on the chair in front of us.

  The audience gasps, turning to focus on us. Kang-dae slips his strange stick away, so quickly I almost think I imagine it. Marc holds up his hands as if in surrender.

  “Our apologies,” Marc says in Korean. “Please forgive our disturbance.”

  I sink into my seat, grabbing hold of the armrests. The vision of the creature’s piercing purple eyes lingers. It was warning me. But of what?

  When we arrive back at the hotel, I
drag myself into a lobby that’s quieter than a morgue. The two soldiers who have been standing at the entrance all day move in and wrap a chain around the door, then secure it with a padlock.

  “Did you just see that?” Michelle grabs my elbow and jerks her head toward the door. “They locked us inside!”

  “They lock all the public buildings, especially if there are people inside. It’s for your safety.” Chu-won purses his lips and shakes his head. “At least, that’s what they tell us.”

  “Let’s just hope there isn’t a fire or something,” Michelle says.

  “You look tired,” Kang-dae tells me.

  I shrug. I’m alive and I have the orb. That’s all that matters.

  Grandfather rests his hand on my shoulder. “I will go make preparations and persuade all I can. Why not go to the terrace and get some juice before dinner?”

  “Perhaps something stronger,” Kang-dae mutters.

  “The hotel gift shop is about to close,” Michelle says, her eyes panicked. “If we’re leaving first thing in the morning, I’ve got to pick up some souvenirs before we leave.”

  “Crap,” I say. “I need to get something for Dad, too.”

  I find a set of North Korean stamps and ginseng tea, pay for my purchases, and sag against the wall to wait for Michelle.

  “You should take a break,” Marc says. “Head up to the balcony and get some food.”

  “I can’t leave Michelle alone,” I say.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her for you,” Marc says.

  “That’s sweet of you,” I say.

  “Don’t worry.” Kang-dae steps up. “I’ll keep her safe. Where can I take you?”

  Marc shoots him a dark look, while I roll my eyes. “I can take care of myself, but thanks,” I tell them. “You two are way too protective. I’m going to drop this stuff off at my room, and I’ll meet you both on the balcony.”

  “You shouldn’t go alone.” Kang-dae lifts his eyebrows and waves a finger at me as if I’m being naughty.

  I blow them a two-finger kiss and head upstairs. After I drop my stuff off, I find Kang-dae loitering outside the elevator.

  “You stalking me?” I ask.

  “Does that turn you on? If so, then yes.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Kang-dae raises his eyebrows and presses the Up button. “You look as if you could use a stiff drink.”

  “I don’t drink,” I say. “I like to stay in control.”

  He chuckles. “I should’ve known.”

  “Why are you so determined to egg Marc on?” I ask Kang-dae as we ride up the elevator to the bar on the roof.

  “It’s addictive.”

  When we step out of the elevator, a sharp breeze whips around us, chilling me to the bone. It’s cooler up on the fifteenth floor than I had expected. I wrap my arms around myself as we secure a seat near the edge of the hotel. The terrace is strung with tiny white lights, and tea candles glow from each table. It’s very romantic, and a sudden rush of guilt cuts through me that I’m up here with Kang-dae instead of Marc. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to come up with Kang-dae, but I needed a break from everything, especially Marc’s stifling urge to protect me. Of course, even that thought spins a strand of guilt around my chest. He’s stifling me because he’s afraid of losing me. Again.

  I suppose if I had had to watch him die like he had to watch me, I’d feel the way he does.

  A waiter rushes to our table. I order a glass of juice while Kang-dae orders wine.

  “Juice?” Kang-dae asks after the waiter leaves.

  I push the napkin shaped as a swan away, avoiding his penetrating gaze. “What I drink isn’t your concern.”

  “Perhaps.”

  There’s that smug look on his face again. He leans back in his chair and flips his fork to a perfect beat on the gray tablecloth. I shift in my seat at his relentless gaze.

  “So how does it feel,” Kang-dae asks, “to be the keeper of such a powerful artifact?”

  His words propel a shiver down my spine. I don’t want to talk about it, especially not now. “It’s not really a big deal. Hopefully I’ll be able to get rid of it soon anyway.”

  Maybe.

  “So sacrificial.” Kang-dae’s voice envelops me as if rich chocolate. “If it were me, I’d use it for my own reasons.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” I cock my head to the side. “Or maybe you would. You’re so egotistical.”

  He laughs and lightly touches my hand. “I’d be tempted to search for buried treasure. Or a hidden tomb. Or find my true love. If you could seek anything, what would you look for?”

  I study his face. Has he guessed that this is a question I’ve been secretly thinking about ever since Kud mentioned using the White Tiger orb to find Komo?

  “Buried treasure doesn’t sound so bad,” I say, trying to stay focused. But Kang-dae’s presence is overwhelming right now. Or maybe it’s the combination of surviving the day and now sitting here in candlelight with the north winds whispering around us.

  “I think we’d make a good match, Jae Hwa. We have a lot in common. We could help each other.”

  The waiter sets our drinks before us and skitters away. Kang-dae takes the corkscrew and begins to caress the wine bottle.

  “Do you know what makes this wine so special?” he asks. When I stare at him like I don’t care, he continues. “This is snake wine. Once the wine bottle is filled, a live snake is put inside.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Definitely not.” He wraps his hand around the top, prepping to pop the cork. “Watch carefully. If the head of the snake is at the top of the bottle, it means good luck.”

  “That’s repulsive.”

  He pops off the cork, and I can’t help but be curious and peer inside. Sure enough, a head rises out of the top of the wine bottle, bloated eyes and wide jaw. So gross.

  “Great.” I stare back at Kang-dae, refusing to appear intimidated by his stupid snake. “We’ve got good luck in store for us.”

  Kang-dae pours himself a glass and lifts it into the air. “To us.”

  I study the scales floating about in his wine and resist grimacing. “Us?”

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t think we were good there at the falls? We were the perfect team.”

  I lift my glass and clink against his. “Thanks for rescuing me today.”

  “Twice now.”

  Kang-dae drags his chair next to mine and wraps his arm over the back of my seat. Heat radiates from him, a relief from the cool air. I shiver again, and he takes off his leather jacket and drapes it on my shoulders. His face leans in close, and his hands linger on my shoulders.

  “So are you going to show it to me?” he asks.

  His spicy cologne fills the air. I could sit and listen to his voice all night. His fingers push my hair out of my face. Then they trail from my cheek down my neck. He tugs on the string that holds the pouch.

  “This it?” He smiles.

  It can’t hurt to show it to him. I reach to untie the strings when a screech erupts in the stillness. Through the night air, that same bird from the performance spirals from the darkening sky toward us like a bolt of lightning. Streaks of light sparkle fireworks in its wake. It dives and opens its strange mouth. A stream of light bursts from it, blinding. Debilitating. Every muscle in my body is enveloped in complete numbness.

  Beside me, Kang-dae yells, covering his face, and yet at the same time reaching across me to protect me.

  He drags me to the ground. I tumble over him. My glass topples, shattering. Juice drenches me. Kang-dae gropes for his stick. His hand moves sluggishly. I drag myself away from him and stagger to standing. I take my fork and wait as the bird swoops back for another round, my vision swimming with sparkles and feathers and violet eyes.

  “Fly, Princess,” it
screams at me. “Fly with the winds.”

  The fork falters in my hand. Is this bird trying to save me? If so, then why? Those words sound so familiar. Then they come back like a stampeding horse. That is what Haechi once told me back in Seoul when Haemosu was chasing me.

  I swivel to face Kang-dae, gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white.

  “Do something, Jae!” Kang-dae yells. “He’ll kill us both! You need to kill it!”

  The bird screeches again, a battle cry, as flames rain down over Kang-dae.

  “Stop!” I scream and slip the orb from its hiding place. I lift it into the air. Silvery light washes the terrace, wavering as the stars glistening over the ocean. “Leave him alone.”

  The bird screeches and swerves away, vanishing into the void.

  “Kang-dae!” I rush to him and grab his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Kang-dae’s body twists and shimmers beneath my hands. He screams in agony. Whatever that bird showered on him is killing him. I draw him into my arms. Guilt stabs me. If only I hadn’t hesitated. I couldn’t even throw a stupid fork to protect him.

  But then his body shifts in my arms, twisting and enlarging. Surprised, I let go and watch in horror as his body lifts into the air, higher, until in an explosion of shattering darkness, he stands again before me.

  A black-clothed form with a shrouded hood, the ends ragged, stretching out into thin snakes of material manifesting from the void.

  Writhing. Twisting. Hungrily seeking.

  I stagger backward. My mouth dries up. My words are ripped from me.

  “You saved me,” the clothed figure says. “Once with the dragons, and now with the Bonghwang. You are brave indeed. You have exceeded my greatest expectations. But even better, you have found the White Tiger seeker orb. Tucked within a realm that neither mortals nor immortals could touch, it rested for a thousand years. Until you came. You who are neither mortal nor immortal. Truly one of a kind.”

  “Kang-dae?” My voice shakes.

  “That is the form you seem to prefer,” he says in a deep voice. “Regrettably, I have been revealed, thanks to that foolish bird.”