I grab her arm. “You don’t think anything happened to him, do you?”
“Girl.” She rolls her eyes. “Something already happened to him. He’s having a tough time. Give him a break. If I only had a few days to live, I sure wouldn’t spend it in school.”
“I’m not upset with him.” I let her go. “Just worried.”
“I know. I am, too.” Michelle gives me her puppy-face look. I figure now is not the time to tell her how much I hate that look. “We’ll figure this out. I know it.”
I cross my arms, unable to speak, as she strolls away to class, blowing me a kiss. Anger stirs inside my chest.
Marc is dying. And I have no way to stop it.
Students pack the gym until the bleachers are overflowing and kids jam the doorways, squeezing in from the lobby. Music blasts from the speakers as the cheerleaders dance—pom-poms flying, smiles plastered across their faces. The soccer team runs out next as each of their names are called. The crowd goes wild. They’re projected to win the APAC tournament this year.
I stand in the corner, arms crossed, body numb. I got another text from Marc about fifteen minutes ago. Meet u at the gym for the presentation. There is something cryptic about it. I frown at the words, wondering why he keeps sending me texts, but not answering my questions.
I tap my foot, casting glances every half second at the door. Marc still isn’t here, and all I can do is worry and text and call. Still, he doesn’t answer. I don’t like it. Something is wrong. He’s never ignored my calls, except when he was training, but there’s no way he’s training today.
“Still no sign of Marc?” Michelle says. I shake my head as she hands me a card. “Maybe he wasn’t feeling up to it,” she says. “Read the card and smile every time it says smile.”
“You’re telling me when to smile now?”
“Trust me on this one. You need to be told when to smile. Otherwise you look ticked off all the time.”
“That’s because I am.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Which is why you love me.”
“True.” She grins, then takes off across the gym to the mic.
I realize they must have called our names, so I scramble after her.
“Together we make a difference.” Michelle begins her speech with our motto. “Together we change lives.”
Then she recaps what we did to raise funds for medicine and explains how successful we were. She stands back as a slideshow comes up on the big screen. When did she have time to make this? She must have created it in the middle of the night. I swear Michelle doesn’t sleep.
Once the slideshow is over, they call Marc’s name. I feel my insides freeze. I wait, expecting him to break through the crowd. Or maybe Kud will show up and make a huge scene and kill us all.
Nothing happens. Except for the fact that everyone’s staring at me.
I shake my head and step to the mic. I read the card. “We raised enough won to purchase fifty multi-drug-resistant TB medical kits.” SMILE. “Each kit is designed for individual patients, so they will be able to get the medicine they need.” SMILE.
My heart warms knowing that if nothing else, we’ve made a difference in people’s lives. That a child will breathe easier. That a man’s life will be saved. I have to cling to those thoughts, otherwise I might break down in tears in front of the entire school. Which would be horrifying.
I wish Mom or Komo were here right now. I know they’d be proud.
Once our presentation is over, the audience is oddly subdued. At first, no one claps, then a few start, and then the entire gym is roaring with shouts. Michelle and I smile at each other, and my heart is full. I don’t ever want to forget this feeling.
The dismissal bell rings, and there’s still no sighting or word from Marc. I even hunt down Kumar.
“I haven’t seen him since last night,” Kumar says.
I don’t like how Kumar won’t look at me but focuses on his tablet instead. “You saw him last night? I thought you were working until late.”
“Yeah, he stopped by the headquarters to check something out.”
I don’t know why, but I feel like there’s something he’s not telling me, and nothing is adding up right. That worries me.
I pull out my phone and text Marc: Where r u?
Kumar’s tablet peeps with a message. My heart stops for a half second before I rip the tablet from Kumar’s hands. Sure enough, my text to Marc has popped up at the top of the screen.
“Give that back!” Kumar says as he reaches for the tablet, but I twist away. All of my recent texts to Marc are on the screen. I’d been talking to Kumar this whole time.
“How could you?” I yell, shoving the tablet into Kumar’s stomach. He grunts. “You lied to me. Did Marc tell you to do this?”
Kumar grimaces and nods before hanging his head.
“What has he done?” I clutch Kumar’s shirt. “Where is he?”
“Girl,” Michelle says. “You need to chill out. He’s probably resting. Right, Kumar?”
Kumar shrugs. I race outside into the courtyard. Behind me, Michelle calls out my name. I stop, biting my lip, and racking my brain for a reason why Marc would ask Kumar to do this. Cherry blossoms tumble onto my hair and shoulders, scattering across the cobblestone walkway. The air fills with the sweetness of blossoms and azaleas. I love this courtyard. I wish I could sit here on one of these benches with Marc and enjoy the moment.
“Where are you going?” Michelle asks.
“To his house. Maybe he’ll be there. I have this horrible feeling something is wrong.”
“Let me come with you.”
“No.” I think about last night and how Kud entered my room. He’s prowling, waiting, and I am not about to risk another friend in all of this. “If you want to help me, you need to stay out of this. It’s too risky.”
“Don’t be that way,” Michelle says, frowning. “Are you still upset that I was hanging out with Kang-dae the other night?”
“Don’t you remember what I said?” I ask. “That wasn’t Kang-dae. It was Kud in disguise.”
“Why can’t you just be happy for me? I finally find someone who is interested in me, and you turn it back into your craziness.”
I stare at her, lost for words. I never once thought she wouldn’t believe me. I snatch her phone out of her hand and scroll through it. My heart skydives. She’s been texting Kang-dae.
“So this is who you’ve been texting with all day?” I shove the phone with its stream of texts back into her hand.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” She presses her sparkly pink lips together and practically glares at me.
“Uh, no. I’m worried.”
“Do me a favor,” she says, adjusting her bag over her shoulder. “You worry about Marc. I’ll worry about myself.”
“Please.” I grab her arms. It takes all my strength not to shake her. “Promise me you won’t see him or talk to him again. I’m begging you.”
I’m torn. Should I stay with her or go find Marc? I don’t like the thought of her possibly meeting up with Kud, but at the same time, Marc is the one who is dying. She’s perfectly healthy.
She pulls away from me and presses her skirt straight. “I don’t know, Jae.”
“Fine,” I finally concede. “At least promise me you won’t see Kang-dae until we talk about it. He’s not who you think he is. You have to know I want you to be happy.”
She shrugs and nods once. It doesn’t really satisfy me, but I don’t know what else to do.
“I’ll text if I hear anything,” I say, and then take off down the courtyard, my feet feeling as if they’re dragging through snow.
I knock lightly on Marc’s door, holding my breath. It swings open. Marc’s mom stands in front of me, eyes red, face white as ash.
“Is Marc okay?” I blurt out
, dropping my backpack onto the floor with a thud.
Her lips quiver. She remains silent. My head whirls. I duck around her and run up the stairs. It’s rude, but I can’t stop the panic that’s threatening to block the air from my lungs.
At the top of the stairs, I freeze. The living room is crowded with people. I search the faces, trying to figure out what’s going on. Then I recognize some of them, even though they are mostly hidden beneath their hoods. They’re the Council of Shinshi members. I search the group until my eyes land on Grandfather.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “What’s going on?”
Grandfather rubs his hand over his face. “Marc is gone.”
“What do you mean he’s gone?” My voice practically screeches. I’m finding it hard to breathe. “He still has until tonight. We still had time.”
“No, not gone like that, my child,” Grandfather says. “He broke into the headquarters last night and took the samjoko amulet.”
“What?” I ask. “Why would he do that?”
“We think he left for the North Korean border this morning,” Marc’s dad says. “His North Korean visa is gone.”
“I hacked into his computer,” Jung says. “Looks like he’s reentering North Korea with a fake visa as a tourist.”
“But how—” I rub my forehead. If anyone could pull off something as insane as this, Marc could. I bet he got Kumar to help him with this crazy scheme. I want to pull my hair out. “Why would he do this?”
“And there is this.” Grandfather hands me a folded piece of rice paper. It’s soft to the touch as I open it. My hands shake as I recognize the handwriting.
Jae,
Don’t be mad. I have less than ten hours left. I can’t sit here and do nothing. For good luck, I’ve taken the gift you gave me last night. I’ve never believed in luck, or fate for that matter. Which is why I must do this. You know, that whole destiny-is-in-your-hands thing. I love you.
Forever yours,
Marc
“He’s gone to find Kud,” I say, letting the note fall to the floor.
“Yes,” Grandfather says. “That is what we believe.”
“We need to do something,” I say. “We need to go after him.”
“It is too late,” one of the Council members says. “We are sure he has long passed the border. It is three o’clock.”
“No,” I say. “There must be something we can do.”
No one will look at me. They all believe Marc is already dead.
Un-freaking-believable.
Marc’s mom passes us carrying a stack of candles and enters Marc’s room. Wordlessly, she starts setting candles around the room and lighting them. I snatch up Marc’s note and pad over to the door, but I can’t enter. Instead, I listen as she says a prayer for every candle she lights.
Where are you, Marc? What have you done?
A lump forms in my throat as I look around his room. Books tumble over his desk, posters of various languages are tacked to the walls. Where most guys would have a row of trophies, he’s got his own collection of artifacts from just about every culture lining the top of his bookshelf.
My feet drag as I cross the threshold. His mother doesn’t even glance my way, intent on her pleas to God. My fingers trail over a picture tacked to the bulletin board. Marc and me on top of Seorakson. His arm is slung around my shoulders, and my head is thrown back, laughing. He’s punching the air in victory because we conquered the mountain.
The moment after that is imprinted in my memory. He swung me in a circle and drew me into his arms, whispering that after everything we’d been through, nothing could stop us. He kissed my forehead, my lips, and promised his love for eternity.
A sob escapes my chest. I jam my fist into my mouth and pretend the tears haven’t escaped once again. Because I’m strong. I must stay strong. It’s not over yet.
I crumple his note in my fist and press it to my chest. The White Tiger orb radiates warm and powerful against me.
It’s not over yet, Kud. Not even close.
I turn and watch Marc’s mom meticulously light more candles. The scent of candle wax and smoke fills the room, along with a soft glow. And with it, hope. I move to her and hold out my hand.
“Let me help you,” I say, my words choked and aching with pain.
She almost smiles. “Every prayer will help.”
She passes me a box of matches, and soon the room is full of lit candles, our prayers, and hope reaching for the heavens. And my heart.
Like a sledgehammer, it comes to me. I know what I must do.
I unpin the picture of Marc and me on the mountaintop, jamming it in my pocket. Spinning on my heels, I march into the living room. The Council and the Guardians are in an uproar, arguing and yelling like a pack of lions.
I try to push through them, but the head of the Council, Mr. Han, grabs me. “Don’t lose sight of what you need to do, Jae Hwa.”
“What are you talking about?” I shrug out of his grip.
“The orb,” he says. “We must return the orb. In fact, now would be the perfect time.”
Just those words alone—the orb—have shut the Council into complete silence. I bristle over the word we because I highly doubt he is planning on entering the Spirit World to have a little chat with Palk.
“I’m not returning it yet.” I straighten my shoulders.
There are gasps and frowns. I should feel guilty, but I don’t. Only desperate and angry and on the brink of complete despair.
“Marc needs my help,” I say. “I’m going to find him and free him of Kud’s curse.”
“How do you plan to do that?” Jung asks.
“That’s impossible,” Marc’s dad says. “Unless you give Kud the orb, which means you’ll be doing exactly what he wants you to do. Walking straight into his trap.”
“I do not approve of this,” Ms. Byun says. “It is against what we as the Guardians believe in. We cannot allow it.”
I search Grandfather’s eyes, needing his approval, but he says nothing, crossing his arms and frowning. I used to think that he was just cranky all of the time, but now I know that look. He’s thinking.
“If I return it to the Heavenly Chest, not only am I condemning Marc to death, I also sentence my own family,” I say and push through the group. “I’m going whether you approve or not.”
“No!” A Guardian named Young leaps across the room, kicks me in the side, and grabs the chain around my neck.
I choke as the chain pulls against my throat, then Young yanks it over my head. It slips through his fingers, and the latch holding the orb inside pops open. The orb tumbles across the hardwood floor, looking like a Ping-Pong-sized pearl. Seeing it lying there, I hardly recognize it. It looks so different, and I’m not sure why. The Council members around me mutter and step away from it.
The need to pick it up and hold it overpowers me. I reach, but Young grasps it first. A blinding light sears from his hand. It fills the room, hungry to consume every inch of shadow. Young screams in pain, dropping the orb as if it were a ball of fire. He collapses to his knees, clutching his palm. Everyone in the room now covers their eyes except me.
I step forward and, taking the orb and chain, drape it back over my neck. Once it’s tucked safely beneath my shirt, the room shifts back to normal. If Young weren’t rocking back and forth on the floor, moaning, it would’ve been hard to imagine that anything had happened.
“You should see a doctor about that,” I say.
“The White Tiger has chosen her,” someone behind me says in an awed whisper.
“We must return it to the Heavenly Chest,” Mr. Han says.
“Wielding such a powerful object is dangerous,” Grandfather finally says. “It is not meant for mortals. Jae Hwa, I do not know what this will bring, but it is not natural. I cannot risk losing you.”
“And then what?” Grandfather snaps. “Marc still dies tonight.”
“Then I must defeat Kud,” I say.
“That is impossible,” Mr. Han says. “He’s immortal.”
Marc’s mom slips into the room, her head high, eyes resolute. She’s carrying a small wooden box. It’s carved with strange markings that I don’t recognize.
“I found these in an ancient tomb in Norway.” She opens the box. Inside are three bronze arrow tips. “Legend says they were infused with the power to weaken an opponent.”
“Bronze tips?” I ask.
“Faith can overcome the impossible,” she says, and tips them into my hand. They clang against each other, cool as ice against my skin. “I have faith in you.”
“Do not go.” Grandfather’s eyes bore into mine.
As we study each other, I know I’m about to cross a bridge that will separate us. And once I do, there will be no turning back. The image of Marc’s tattoo and his pale face fills my mind. I can’t stand the thought of living without him.
“I have to,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Grab her!” Mr. Han commands.
Someone grabs me from behind in a vise grip. I twist to set my attacker off guard and then bend, so his kick swings through the air above me. Spinning, I kick, punch, and jam my elbow hard into my attacker, so he grunts and falls to the ground. Standing with my fists before me, I see my attacker is Jung. According to Marc, he’s got the best martial arts skills of them all.
I don’t have time for a full-out fight. I’m not sure how long it will take me to reach Kud’s lands or even how I’ll get there. So I pull out the orb. Its glow blazes in a fiery white, blinding everyone. Guilt at using the orb against the people who’ve tried to help me rips through my insides, but I can’t allow myself to care. Not if I want to save Marc.
I grab my backpack and race out the door.
I sprint down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the elevator. I forgo the subway and opt for a taxi. At this time of day, traffic is manageable. I bark out directions to the driver and then sink my head into my hands. I’ve never felt so alone. Marc has left, Komo is dead, Michelle is wrapped up in Kang-dae, and the Council is against me, even Grandfather.
Silvern (The Gilded Series) Page 26
