The Last Fallen Star
Page 5
Hattie nods. “We drink half the potion before the incantations, in the presence of a council elder, then we do the incantations and pour the other half into the Gi cauldron.” She pauses. “That’s totally doable!”
I frown. “Uh, except we need to find a council elder who’s willing to be there. Not to mention we need to get inside the temple to use the Gi cauldron. You know I can’t get in unless I’m with Eomma and Appa.”
“Riley’s right,” Emmett says, pursing his lips. “Doesn’t sound that doable to me.”
I exhale the disappointment from my system, now wishing I’d listened to him. “I knew it couldn’t be that easy. This is never gonna work.”
Hattie, with her eternal optimism, grins widely. “You guys give up too easily. Don’t you see this is perfect? In fact, we couldn’t make it more perfect if we tried.”
Emmett and I cock our heads. Did she just read the same words we did?
“My ceremony’s tomorrow,” Hattie reminds us. “I’ll have just gotten my Gi, we’ll have easy access to the cauldron, and all the elders will be there. That’s when we’ll do the spell.”
I suddenly feel a little sick to my stomach. “Hat, we can’t do it at your initiation! It’s your big day. What will people say? You could get in so much trouble. You can’t do that for me!”
Hattie shakes her head. “Don’t you see? It is the ideal opportunity to make a statement in front of all the elders and the congregation. Once we transfer half my magic to you, you can prove you know the incantations to pretty much any healing spell, which I know you do. And then the council will have no choice but to let you do your own initiation ceremony when you’re ready.” Her eyes light up. “It’s going to go down in history as the day the gifted clans joined the twenty-first century.”
The idea of being the center of attention as I recite the incantations makes me want to puke. But Hattie’s right—I know the words to the spells as well as she does. I’ve just never had the Gi or divine support to power them. If this could help me gain the acceptance and recognition of the council, what else could I want?
That thought alone makes me feel warm and fuzzy, and I squeeze Hattie’s arm. I can’t find the words to express my emotions in this instant, but I know she knows. This means everything to me.
“I don’t mean to be the resident party pooper, again…” Emmett starts. “But why do you think your parents kept this from you, Rye? Even I’ll admit the spell doesn’t seem impossible once you have the cauldron and the elder. So why hide it? It says it’s only dangerous when cast between the gifted.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve been wondering the same thing. “Do you think maybe…that perhaps…they don’t want me to have magic? That they think I’m not good enough to be a healer and I don’t deserve to be a Gom?” A lump forms in my throat, and suddenly tomorrow seems like a very, very bad idea once again.
“Don’t be silly!” Hattie says, taking a photo of the spell and putting the book back in the safe. “You know Eomma and Appa are super supportive of you. They’re just old school and never thought this was a valid option. We have to show them that some risks are worth taking. Easy as that.”
I remain silent as she shuts the safe door and jumps to her feet. “It’s decided, then. We’ll do the spell tomorrow, right after my initiation.” She ushers us out the door and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, sis, they’ll come around. They all will. And we’ll be opening up our own practice in no time.”
As always, Hattie’s words lift the weight from my shoulders. She’s right. Eomma and Appa have always been supportive. And once I have my magic, they will be happy for me, too. I grab her and hug her tight, saying a thank-you prayer to Mago Halmi for my sister.
As we rush out of the clinic, excitement and nerves bubble up inside me like a shaken soda can.
One more day, and I will be a healer.
One more day, and I will be able to wield the power of the divine.
One more day, and my community will see me as an equal. They will accept me and embrace me as one of their own.
And then, perhaps, I’ll finally belong.
I WAKE TO THE FEELING OF something wet and sticky on my face. I jolt up in bed to find Mong sitting on my stomach, slobbering all over me.
“Ew, Mong, get off! Your breath stinks.” I push him away and then do a double take. “Wait, are you wearing clothes?”
I hear Hattie chuckling from somewhere on the other side of the room. “It’s an outfit, Emmett says. For the special occasion today.”
I rub my eyes and follow Hattie’s voice.
She’s already up, sitting at her dressing table, brushing her long hair. The morning sun is shining through the gap in the curtains, pooling over her head and shoulders like a halo. “I don’t know when he did it, but when I woke up this morning, I found Mong dressed like this with a little note on his collar.”
She throws me the note. It reads:
For the special occasion today, I designed a celebratory outfit for Mong. Guess who he is! Yeah, I know. I’m amazing. Also, for the love of all things baked, don’t do anything stupid today. Well, not any more than what you’ve already got planned…I better see your faces after the ceremony. OR ELSE.—Em
I study Mong’s outfit. Black “scales” cover his body, making his big puppy-dog eyes stand out even more than usual. There is a single blunt horn on his forehead, framed by a great lion’s mane, and around his neck is a small round bell. He looks part dog and part lion, with a tiny unicorn horn.
“Ha! He’s the Haetae!” I squeal in delight.
Hattie giggles. “Pretty spot-on, right?”
The Haetae is a uni-horned lion beast, and one of the most-well-loved creatures in our culture. He’s Mago Halmi’s guardian pet, known for two things: his incredible loyalty, and his ability to manipulate time.
“Emmett really outdid himself,” I say. “I wish he and Mong could come to the ceremony today.”
“I know. Me too.”
I roll out of bed and stumble over to Hattie, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. Our reflections smile back at us in the dresser mirror, and for a moment, there is no ceremony, no spell, no magic. Just me and my sister.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” I say quietly. “And yes, yes, I know—you’re doing it as a matter of principle as much as you’re doing it for me. But still.” I suddenly remember what else today is. “Oh, and by the way, happy thirteenth birthday!”
She smiles, and her cheeks glow warm with love. Then just as quickly, her smile turns into a grimace. “Ew, morning breath much? And to think you threw shade at our mini Haetae for his breath. A bit rich, Rye. A bit rich.”
“Whatever do you mean, darling sister?” I say innocently as I exhale deeply into her face. “My breath smells like flowers. See?”
She shrieks and pushes me away. “OMG, you’re the worst. Go brush your teeth!”
I chuckle and run out of the room before Hattie can retaliate.
Today is going to be the best day of my life, and it’s already off to a roaring start.
Somehow, the morning passes in a flash, and before I know it, we’re back in the sanctuary at the temple. Unlike in a normal Saturday service, the Gi cauldron is surrounded by a circular altar full of food offerings to our patron goddess. Among them are plump persimmons, savory gimbap, and sweet rice cakes drizzled in honey. Generous bowls of rice wine are dotted like milky exclamation points among them, and I gape at the size of the bae. The juicy Korean pears, each almost as big as a bowling ball, are stacked in a pyramid. Everything looks delicious, except for the plates of raw garlic and mugwort leaves. The Cave Bear Goddess apparently loves those, but I could definitely pass on them.
My parents and I sit in the front row of the Gom pews, eagerly awaiting Hattie’s appearance. Hundreds of witches have gathered to watch her become a full-fledged healer, and looking around at all the expectant faces, I start to get cold feet about our plans to hijack the ceremony. I shove
my right hand in my pocket and make sure the potion is still there and in one piece. I can’t believe we’re actually going to do this….
Soon, a hush falls over the crowd. Hattie enters the sanctuary behind the five elders, and they walk in single file toward the Gi cauldron. My sister is wearing open-toed gold sandals, and her long golden hanbok ripples like gentle waves behind her. A fur headpiece sits grandly atop her head, sporting a row of sharp bear claws that make it look like she’s wearing an ivory crown. Eomma and Appa let out quiet squeals of delight, and I beam proudly beside them. Hattie has worked so hard for this, and her initiation is going to be a breeze.
As she walks, her eyes search the crowd for me. And when they meet mine, she taps the side of her dress, reminding me that her potion is in the hidden pocket of her hanbok. I nod back, and she gives me a quick smile.
“Welcome, fellow witches, to a very special occasion,” Auntie Okja says, starting the ceremony. “For today, we initiate our newest healer into the Gom clan.” She continues with the preamble before inviting Mrs. Kim, the Gumiho elder, to take over.
“Now let’s get this initiation started.” Mrs. Kim steps forward and rubs her wrists together. As her gifted mark glows silver, she chants a spell under her breath. Before our very eyes, a young man materializes in front of the altar, clutching his stomach in pain. He looks so real, it’s hard to believe he’s just a Gumiho illusion.
“Please help me,” he gurgles to Hattie. “There’s something wrong with me.”
Hattie immediately springs into action and goes to the man’s side. She assesses him thoroughly while calming him with reassuring words. Then she announces, “This patient is suffering from internal bleeding. I will now perform a blood-clotting spell.”
Eomma lets out a relieved sigh beside me as Hattie rubs her wrists and casts the spell with familiar ease. All those practice sessions between them have paid off—Hattie looks calm and composed; her lisp is hardly noticeable as she pronounces the difficult Korean consonants.
One down, two to go!
Mrs. Kim reveals the second test, and it’s obvious to everyone what this patient’s ailment is. She is missing big chunks of flesh from her legs, and the other clans, who aren’t used to seeing so much blood, cover their eyes.
I, on the other hand, do a small fist pump. This one’s easy. Hattie needs to do a muscle-grafting spell, followed by a flesh-replenishing spell. And I know she can perform both. “She’s got this!” I whisper to my parents, and they nod back in agreement.
Hattie rubs her wrists again, and when her gifted mark glows gold, she holds her palms over the patient’s legs. As Hattie’s chanting grows in volume, the patient’s wasted limbs begin to transform, the hollowed cavities of sinew and bone filling with muscle and flesh.
“Another pass!” Auntie Okja announces. “Only one more spell to go.”
Hattie grins, and I clutch my hands. She’s almost there!
Mrs. Kim reveals her final test, and a frail old man appears where the woman was lying a moment before. He’s in the fetal position and unusually still. I lean forward, trying to figure out what he’s suffering from.
Hattie crouches down and assesses him from head to toe. She pauses at his face and then again at his neck and at his wrist. She frowns, and I look to Eomma and Appa. “What is it? What’s wrong with him?”
Appa’s forehead creases. “I think it’s a trick question.”
Eomma nods, swallowing hard. “I think so, too.”
I look back at the man and rack my brain for possible ailments. He’s not bleeding, and none of his bones look obviously broken. He doesn’t seem to be in pain, and he’s so still it looks like he’s not breathing.
Then it dawns on me.
“Oh my Mago.” I breathe out.
I look to Hattie just as she rechecks the man’s pulse a third time. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts. Then she stands confidently and announces to the council, “This man is not alive. And while there are certain spells that can bring mortals back to life, it is against the council’s code of conduct to do so, as it would break the sacred covenant the clans have with the Spiritrealm. For this reason, I will refrain from casting any spells to revive this patient.”
“Wise answer, initiate,” Auntie Okja declares, her voice booming with pride. “And you are correct. You have officially passed all three tests, and your Gi is now yours to keep and use at your will. Please come to the cauldron to receive your blessing from the Cave Bear Goddess.”
As cheers and applause fill the sanctuary, Hattie walks over to the cauldron and holds her wrist over its mouth. The cauldron trembles into action, and with it, the food and drink offerings on the altar start levitating out of their bowls. It looks like we’re in outer space and experiencing zero gravity.
A deep guttural wail escapes from the cauldron as Hattie’s Gi and gifted mark glow Gom gold. The glow spreads from her wrist up her arm, through her torso, and down her legs until she is completely bathed in warm light. Then, with a loud, thunderous boom, a bolt of blinding white light hits Hattie.
When the light subsides and we can see again, all the food and drink have disappeared to the Godrealm, and Hattie is grinning widely.
The crowd breaks into another round of applause, and Eomma bursts into tears. Appa claps furiously, and I jump out of my seat to cheer at the top of my lungs. “She did it! You did it, Hattie!”
Hattie completes her vows, and as she nears the final words, the blood starts pumping through my body in double time. Are we going to do this? We’re actually going to do this. We shouldn’t do this. No, we definitely should not be doing this. At one point, I even contemplate leaving Hattie there and running away while I still can. This is officially the worst plan ever.
But then Hattie looks over at me and makes a subtle drinking motion, and my nerves ignite like flint. I can’t run away now. My sister is doing this for me. We’re doing this together, and it’s going to work, darn it! The line Sometimes you gotta burn your fingers to enjoy the s’more rings in my ears.
Hattie and I exchange one final look. One determined nod. And then I take a deep breath and count to three.
“Now, Riley!” Hattie calls out.
I rip the potion out of my pocket and throw back half the liquid before I can change my mind. It burns slightly as it makes its way down my throat. But there’s no turning back now. I have to commit.
Eomma and Appa stare in shock, frozen in their seats, as we start the incantations.
“Jega gajingeon, dangsinege jumnida,” Hattie chants. That which I have, I give to you.
I respond in earnest, my voice shaking like a leaf. “Dangsini gajingeon, jega gajyeogamnida.” That which you have, I take from you.
I start making my way to Hattie and the cauldron.
The motion brings Appa back to his senses, and he grabs my arm. “Riley, what are you doing? Sit back down!”
I give him a guilty look and hope my eyes are apology enough as I continue to chant. “Dangsini gajingeon, jega gajyeogamnida.” I break away from his grip and continue toward Hattie.
We’re doing the right thing, I tell myself. Everyone will come around, and they will eventually understand. Everything is going to be all right.
Eomma is up on her feet now, pleading with us to stop. “Girls, please. Don’t do this!”
It pains me to ignore her, but I keep walking. I focus my eyes on Hattie, and we both look at the cauldron. We’re so close now. All we need to do is pour the second half of our vials into the cauldron and the spell will be complete.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I finally reach Hattie and we both lift our potions over the cauldron’s mouth. This is our moment. I am finally going to become a witch, and the adrenaline is like a living thing pinballing inside me.
“Stop, girls, STOP!” Auntie Okja screams, running toward us. “You can’t!”
Something about the frenzy in her voice makes me halt dead in my tracks. I have never heard her sound like this before.
Auntie Okja shakes her head so hard her perfectly coiffed hair frizzes around her head. She slaps the vial out of Hattie’s hand with one swift movement. “No, you don’t understand. It could kill you!”
My vial has started to tip slowly into the cauldron, but I flip it upright even before Auntie Okja makes it to my side. “What do you mean? It’s only a temporary spell. We’ve done our research. The spellbook said it’d only be risky if cast between witches.”
Auntie Okja cups my face in her hands. My eyes flit to my parents, who are both standing midway between the pews and the cauldron, holding on to each other. They look like they’ve seen a gwisin.
“It’s dangerous,” Auntie Okja blurts out in a rush, “because you’re not a saram, Riley.”
There is a confused murmur from the onlookers, and Hattie’s jaw drops to the ground. I stay frozen, unable to comprehend her words.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hattie says, her palms raised up. “Back up the bus. Are you trying to say that Riley has been a Gom all along?” She shakes her head and glances at me with a disoriented look on her face. “Rye, what’s going on?”
“No, not a Gom.” Auntie Okja tightens her grip on my face. “You, my sweet child,” she whispers hoarsely, “are a Horangi.”
I PULL AWAY FROM MY AUNTIE’S grip and rub my ears, because what I just heard cannot be true.
“Sorry, come again?” I splutter. “I thought you just said I was a Horangi.” The clan name tastes bitter in my mouth.
The congregation lets out a shocked gasp. I’m pretty sure I hear Mr. Pyo using some colorful words that, according to Appa, only drunken sailors and politicians use.
Eomma and Appa have clambered up to the cauldron and are now looking at me as if I’ve grown a Haetae horn on my forehead.
“Tell her,” I say to my parents confidently. “Tell Auntie O she’s got her wires crossed. I’m a saram. You adopted me because my birth parents were teenagers who were too young to raise me. Go on, tell her.”