Young-hee and the Pullocho

by Mark James Russell

  Young-hee didn’t want to let herself believe it. After all she had been through, the forest fairy king return her home? Not just home, but a better home. With her father back. It was … perfect. And then …

  “Where’s Bum?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Young-beom, my little brother. Where is he?”

  “Ah, your brother. That, I’m afraid to say, is the one thing I cannot give you. He was captured by a goblin. That is an old magic, strong and true—one I cannot simply undo.”

  “But … you can do all this other stuff.”

  “Yes, I can give you everything you have wanted for so long. Everything except that one thing.”

  “But the whole reason I’ve traveled so far, is for Bum,” she trailed off. In the crystal’s images—her father back, her mother happy—everything seemed so right. But … “He needs me.”

  “Does he really? Can you really be so sure? He is stronger and more resourceful than you realize. And didn’t you always resent him?” The king’s words stung her. “Wouldn’t the family be happier without him?”

  “No. I have to get him. I promised.” As she said the words, she knew they were true. Even though losing her dad again was just as terrible. “I have to go.”

  “That is your choice. But know this—even if you find your pullocho and complete your quest, you will lose your brother.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do.”

  “I have to try. Wherever he is now, I will find him.”

  “Of course you will try. I know that, too.”

  As they descended the steps and left the king’s residence, rotten timbers creaked and collapsed behind them.

  “My leaving is destroying your palace.”

  “Only for you. For us immortals, it will forever be glorious and beautiful. But before you go, we have a gift, to thank you and, perhaps, to help your journey.”

  A ragged servant approached, head bowed, carrying the finest lacquer box, with mother-of-pearl designs so vivid they seemed alive. The fairy king opened it. Inside were three small vials, one white, one red, one blue. “Blue is for water,” he said, “red for fire, and white for nature. When you are desperate, open a vial and let a single drop fall to the ground—but no more—and it should help.”

  “Oh, thank you so much,” said Young-hee. The box was too big, so she put the vials in her carrying bag. The bag had seen better days, but was still sturdy, and Young-hee felt quite attached to it.

  Finally at front gate, she saw that the wall was collapsed rubble, jutting with broken timbers. “Head toward the sun,” said the king. “You will reach the end of the forest by the end of the day, on the side of the Sacred City.”

  “Toward the sun, check.”

  “When you see your friend, Samjogo, please tell him that the Forest Fairy King remembers his service and wishes him well.”

  “Okay. But I have no idea where he is. It’s been so long since I left him.”

  “Thank you for your time with us. The forest fairies wish you well.”

  Young-hee climbed over the rubble. When she turned to bid the king one last farewell, there were only ruins where the palace once was, with no signs of fairies or king.

  “Of course,” she said. Feeling vacant, Young-hee found the sun through the bamboo and started walking. She had grown so comfortable and content in the palace, Young-hee could scarcely believe she had left it. Even if you find your pullocho, you will lose your brother. The silent forest turned the memory into a shout. Was that why Boonae warned about the forest? After months free of care, Young-hee felt crushed by all her old worries and fears.

  After a couple of hours bamboo gave way to cedars and birch, then after a couple more hours she saw the forest end and a clearing await her. She squeezed through a particularly thick grove of trees and stumbled into it.

  A disheveled man saw her emerge and stood up suddenly. His goofy friend smiled broadly and wagged his tail. “Hey, there she is,” said Samjogo to Tiger.

  “You waited for me!” gushed Young-hee as she ran to hug her friends. They looked just as she remembered. “I can’t believe it. How long has it been? Months? More? I lost track.” She couldn’t believe they had waited. She didn’t think she could endure the quest alone.

  Tiger responded with typical purrs. Samjogo seemed pleased, but concerned. “Young-hee, it has been only a day since we entered the Great Forest,” said the three-legged crow.

  “A day? But … I was …”

  “Gone much longer? Yes, the forest can be like that, especially the palace of the immortal fairy king.”

  Young-hee was confused, but not surprised. Time was just one of many things that didn’t work the same in Strange Land. She scratched behind the ear of the happy big cat. Then she scowled. “How did you know I went to the king’s palace?”

  Samjogo looked away, troubled. “Because I know the fairy king very well. He was the father who found and raised me as his son.”

  “Wait, the king of the Great Forest was your father?” Young-hee’s mind raced, amazed, bewildered. “You know, that would have been useful information before we entered the forest.”

  “I tried to keep us out. We only entered because there was no choice.”

  “But once we entered, you could have said something.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” he said. “That is the test of the Great Forest and why we tried to go around it. There are no paths through, and you must face its tests alone. I am bound by the same forest rules and tests as everyone else.”

  Young-hee let go of Tiger and stood. Her head throbbed as she tried wrapping her brain around what had happened. “I thought you said you were raised by savage fairies? Hunting, fighting, and all? The fairy king I met was very kind.”

  Samjogo scuffed the ground as he talked, troubled by memories. “True, today, the immortal fairy king is peaceful, beyond the concerns of this, or any realm. But he was not like that when he took me in. Only after great suffering and the Dragon Wars did the king renounce his old ways, devoting himself to sutras and enlightenment, to becoming forever joyful. When he moved into the forest, he took over the palace of the immortals and turned the woods into that fearful test.”

  A test? She thought about all she had given up to leave the palace—its simple happiness, the promise of regaining her father. It had taken more strength than she knew she had to reject those offers. “So, the test is the fairies’ promise of happiness,” she said, trying to understand. “Which, for some reason, you aren’t allowed to talk about.”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “And I got sucked in for a while. But eventually, remembering my brother and love for my family helped me pass the test.”

  Samjogo pushed a clump of earth with the end of his hyeopdo and looked sad. “No,” he said, “you failed.” Pressing his lips together grimly, he started up the hill.

  Young-hee stood stunned, until Tiger lightly nudged her forward. “We should be going.”

  Ahead loomed a rolling expanse of hills, and right in front was the largest of all, a huge, flat-topped mountain—home to the Sacred City. Most of the slope was treeless but green, yielding to rock and snow near the top. So close now. But conflicting thoughts made it hard to concentrate.

  Young-hee and Tiger walked together, while Samjogo took the lead. As upset as Young-hee was, she also worried about Samjogo. He had lost his chatty optimism, and gained an almost sullen look. The king is the Samjogo’s father? And he looks like my father? Something about those ideas cut too close and too deep. The Great Forest was yet another Strange Land mystery, she decided, free from the burdens of logic. Sorting it rationally would only give her a headache, so she decided to just keep going.

  “If it helps, I didn’t know the fairy king was Samjogo’s father either,” said Tiger. “After I fell asleep, I woke up at the edge of the forest, beside Samjogo. Only then did he tell me the nature of the forest and the fairy king’s tests.”

  “So the fairies didn’
t tempt you?”

  “I would never get the chance to take the fairies’ test. It is not for all creatures. Just you … and Samjogo, too.”

  “He looks … upset.”

  “Because he failed the test, as well, or so I understand. And since then he has not been able to see his father or the other the forest fairies.”

  “None of this sounds very fair. What was the test? Was I supposed to stay forever? How would that be passing?”

  Shrugging, Tiger walked on.

  The slope they trudged up was not as lush as it appeared from a distance. Under sparse grass, the ground was all black rocks and coarse soil. Looking closely, she thought some of the stones resembled the magic path she followed since her quest’s start. And that’s when she realized that the whole mountain was now her path. As her journey neared its end, the path grew, converging on the Sacred City.

  Up and up the long, difficult climb. The clouds grew closer, larger, and fiercer. Young-hee worried that the Storm Lord might have a hand in it, but saw no signs of him. Nor of the ghosts or any other pursuers. Had they tried following through the forest? Or gone around? Maybe they lay in wait at her destination. It couldn’t be a secret that their goal was the Sacred City, not now.

  As they traveled higher, the wind rose and the temperature cooled. She put on her cloak and all the clothes she had, but the wind bit through. Only the strain of climbing provided warmth. Even when the sun poked through a cloud, it beamed half-heartedly. Young-hee remembered the perfect, ethereal warmth and eternal twilight that was Strange Land when she first arrived. Everything had seemed so magical and wondrous. Now, it was gray and ominous, as if her fears, worries, and doubts had infected the entire realm.

  Young-hee certainly had a lot of all three—she was afraid for Bum, worried about her family, and doubtful she would find the pullocho. But increasingly she wrestled a concern she couldn’t identify. Something about this whole excursion didn’t add up. Why were the Ghost Queen and her minions after her? Little of what the animal spirit sisters had told her made sense. And what was up with Mirinae’s chioonchim working for Samjogo but not her? More and more, Young-hee thought that there must be something else she wasn’t aware of. Something bigger. But no matter how much she mulled and imagined, she found no good answers.

  At one point, shifting right to avoid a steep bit of cliff, they crossed a ridgeline that awarded a view of a previously hidden mountain side. Below was a great swathe of small, light blue shapes. Whatever it was, it was too small for Young-hee to make out clearly. Samjogo noticed her confused stare. “River fairies, most likely,” he said simply. “The blue would be their banners.”

  “That looks big enough to be an army,” said Young-hee.

  “That’s because it is.” With no more explanation, he led the way forward.

  Up ahead, the mountain leveled into a plateau. Even from this distance Young-hee could see odd rocky formations and figured the Sacred City must be there. Or had been, if any ruins remained.

  Despite fatigue from the long day’s trek, she walked faster, spurred on by anticipation. The pullocho just has to be there. I’ll get it, then I’ll get Bum back. Samjogo was climbing faster, too, and Tiger casually leaped ahead of them both.

  She smelled the city before she saw it—the rich, oily scent of sandalwood filled the air with perfume that reminded Young-hee of her mother’s favorite incense. The beautiful smell meant she was close to her goal. A noble-hearted simmani might be able to find a pullocho in the ruins of the great Sacred City, in the shadow of the first sandalwood tree. That’s what the dokkaebi had told her. Of course, why should he be any more right than any other creature Young-hee had met? Most advice since beginning this quest had been dubious at best, and some was just wrong. Leaving the path didn’t seem to matter because a new one emerged. Gifts didn’t always come with strings. Even the Great Forest, difficult as it had been, was surmountable. Now Young-hee was ready for her quest to end. She wanted the pullocho. She scampered over a large rock and spilled onto the plateau. Before her lay the ruins of the Sacred City.

  A large, lonely sandalwood tree sat in the middle of the plateau. Scattered all around were deeply decayed ruins, with only crumbled stones where walls or foundation once stood. In a couple of spots, splinters of rotten wood hinted at a large hall or palace. A few tufts of grass clung to life on top of the ruins. It was impossible to imagine what the Sacred City has once been. Behind the ruins, the mountain—just bare rock—continued up. The clouds closed in on them, darkening the scene. Around the ruins’ edges were four large, stony mounds, with another behind the sandalwood tree.

  But that one … moved. Brown and earth-like, it looked like a cross between a lion and a hippopotamus, but huge, twice the size of an elephant, with a thick, earthen hide, wings, and a single, stubby horn on the middle of its forehead. The creature walked lazily toward Young-hee making hrumph noises, its steps shaking the earth and shattering stones.

  “Oh wow,” said Young-hee, “that’s a haechi.”

  “Indeed. And that’s really bad news for us,” said Samjogo, reaching for his hyeopdo.

  “Is it another evil monster trying to kill us?”

  “Worse. It’s a guardian of goodness, honor, and justice.”

  “That sounds like a good thing.”

  “Not for us. You only summon a haechi to guard something very, very important that you firmly intend to keep from anyone else. Haechi are not the smartest guardians in the realm, but they are probably the most powerful.”

  “Oh. Great,” Young-hee said. Tiger stood bravely in front of her, ready to defend her as always. The haechi came to a stop halfway between Young-hee and the sandalwood tree. Closer now, Young-hee saw swirling designs rippling his hide like the surface of a stormy lake. “Uh, hello, Mr. Haechi?!” she called and waved, suddenly felt foolish, halted, felt just as dumb giving a half-wave, so resumed. In the end, it was probably a three-quarter wave, and she still felt dumb.

  The haechi blandly tilted his head. “Hello, young travelers, and Tiger. What brings you to such a distant, difficult part of our realm?”

  Young-hee gulped and walked forward. She felt Samjogo trying to pull her back, but she brushed his hand from her shoulder. “Well, Mr. Haechi, I am here for a pullocho. I have traveled very far and encountered many trials, but I need it to save my little brother.”

  “I see,” boomed the creature. “That does sound like a noble venture, suffering and sacrificing for family. But, alas, I cannot help you—there are no pullochos here.”

  “No pullochos?” cried Young-hee, equal parts disappointment, frustration, and anger. That couldn’t be right, not after all she had been through. “No, everyone said it’s ‘In the shadow of the first sandalwood tree.’ Please, let me search, just for a while.”

  “That would be impossible,” said the gigantic guardian. “Outsiders are not allowed. Now, please leave my home.” Haechi turned and walked slowly toward the tree.

  “But … But, please, Mr. Haechi. I need the pullocho. Surely I could at least look.”

  “I understand your frustration. But my words were clear.” The haechi didn’t bother turning to look at them.

  “Noble haechi?” shouted Samjogo, his voice full of mocking. “Truest of all the great guardians? What kind of noble creature lies like that? There is nothing noble about lying and turning your back on those who need your help.” The haechi stopped and turned, definitely displeased. But Samjogo continued defiantly. “He won’t let you look because he knows full well there is a pullocho here. Look at him, he knows what I say is true. The pullocho is here, but he just wants to stop you from getting it.”

  The haechi glowered at Samjogo. The clouds grew purple and began to churn. “I do what I must and I say what I must, not to insult, but to protect my charge. If you realized what you asked, and what it could do, you would not be so quick to cast aspersions. Now leave, unless you think three small travelers can stand against an angry haechi.”

  As lightn
ing flashed across the sky and thunder boomed, the haechi looked as troubled as Young-hee and friends.

  “Uh-oh,” said Tiger, “I think this storm is not the haechi’s doing.”

  A great wind whipped, rain fell, and lightning exploded in their midst, booming like an unholy drum, and knocking Young-hee, Samjogo, and Tiger off their feet. As the roar of the thunder and the rattling in her head faded, Young-hee realized that the lightning had struck the haechi. His skin steamed and smoldered, but otherwise he looked unhurt—just very, very angry.

  “Look at this—kitty, bear daughter, and the sparrow have found the lost ruins where the last pullocho lies,” came a cackling cry from over the ridge. “Why, I do believe that’s a haechi. A crispy, barbecued haechi.” Riding a huge black horse was a monstrous figure, carrying cymbals and hammers—Nwaegongdo. With him was the Lord of War carrying a cart full of even larger baskets.

  “Storm Lord, War Lord, I will tell you what I told the others—this place is under my protection,” said the haechi, his thick tail slapping the ground. “Leave at once.”

  Nwaegongdo smirked. “With that pullocho, we’ll be strong enough to challenge the Lords of Heaven. And we’ll happily go through you to get it.” At a signal, the red-face Lord of War dismounted, walked to the cart of baskets and set them alight.

  “Oh, jeez, not those again,” said Young-hee.

  Just then, beyond the wind’s gusting, another sound whipped the plain—an empty, terrifying rattling. Across the field Young-hee saw a mass of figures with long, black hair and white hanbok, led by a thin, hollow-faced woman on horseback—the Ghost Queen leading her minions, more of them than ever.

  “Enough!” shouted Haechi. He stomped the ground angrily, sending broken chips of rock flying, then stomped again and again. The third time, the ground shook and cracked as the whole hill rumbled. And then, with a great roaring, the four hills surrounding the ruins came to life. They shook off the dirt and grass that covered them, revealing more guardians, each as big as Haechi—a red bird that swirled with flame, a huge white tiger, a blue dragon, and a black thing between a turtle and a snake.