by Graci Kim
Emmett fiddles with his ring, and suddenly I remember the big elephant in the room.
“Em,” I start slowly, “you said yourself that magic got me into this mess in the first place. And I know your dad hates you getting involved with any clan stuff.” I glance down at his ring. “And understandably, too. So thank you for your genius idea about praying to Mago Halmi. But I think you should go home now. Leave this to us. Hattie and I will do the summoning.”
He jumps to his feet and puts his hands on his hips. “Are you serious? Look what happened when I let you two take charge at the ceremony.” He stares down at me with laser eyes so intense I shrink back. Even Hattie takes a step away. “No way. Not in a million years. I am not leaving you to ruin your life any more than you already have. If you’re gonna summon the mother of all creation, you’re gonna need me around to keep you alive. Let’s face it—I’m the only one here with their head screwed on straight.”
He takes a long moment before speaking again. “Besides, I lost my mom once to magic. I’m not gonna lose you to it, too.”
I swallow hard and look at Hattie. I have to tell Emmett everything. He needs to know I come from the clan that killed his mom. What kind of best friend would I be to keep that from him when he’s willing to put everything on the line for me?
Hattie’s eyes are sympathetic, but she doesn’t give me a sign either way.
“Stop dawdling,” he says. “Let’s go.”
And just like that, the moment is gone. I know at some point I’ll need to tell him. And I mean, I will.
But not now.
Not today.
Because right now, we have the mother of all creation to summon. And I need all the help I can get.
AFTER WE MEET NOAH OUTSIDE the dojang, he sneakily leads us past his mom’s bodega on the ground floor and then up the back stairs. Hattie and Noah are acting super awkward with each other, and I can’t believe I hadn’t picked up on their lovey-dovey vibes before. Now that I know, I kind of feel bad that I didn’t notice earlier. Sisters should notice these things.
“Hattie says you’re a b-boy as well as a martial artist,” Emmett says to Noah, looking at him curiously. “Are you as good as she says you are?”
Noah stops at the top of the stairs and French-tucks his shirt into the front of his trendy whitewashed jeans. He smiles freely, revealing two dimples at the ends of his mouth. “Sure, I love break-dancing. But it’s easy when you’ve got Miru blood in your veins. Half the work is already done for you.”
Most protector-clan witches are born with either superhuman speed or strength. But Noah was blessed with both. Definitely a case of good genes (and also, good jeans).
“As for martial arts, I get by.”
Hattie coughs. “Humble, much? He’s only the undefeated national Taegwondo champion for his age group, not to mention he also does Capoeira, Hapkido, and Zumba.”
Noah blushes slightly at Hattie’s praise but grins. “Zumba is by far the hardest. Never realized how hard it was to do a shimmy while shaking your hips. You guys should come to a class one day. It’s an awesome workout.”
Emmett tries to hide it, but I see the smile creeping up his face. This is the first time he’s met Noah, but it’s clear even Emmett isn’t immune to his charm. There’s something about Noah’s quiet confidence that screams I’m cool. The cute glasses and fauxhawk don’t hurt, either.
“Seriously, though, it’s nothing special,” Noah explains. “Martial arts kinda comes with the territory.”
Noah’s dad is a Taegwondo grandmaster and comes from one of the most well-known protector families in the Miru clan. His dojang in the heart of Koreatown is famous for churning out Olympic-level martial artists, but you wouldn’t know it by walking in there.
We enter through the staff-only back door. The training studio is drab and outdated, with peeling wallpaper and way-too-bright lights. The sound of voices chanting Taegwondo commands reverberates through the walls.
“Just keep your voices down,” says Noah. “My appa is teaching a class in the front studio, but we should have five minutes before the session finishes.” He leads us down a hallway to what I assume is his dad’s office.
My first thought when we enter the room is Whoa, if Taegwondo were a goddess, this room would be her shrine. The place is littered with trophies of all shapes and sizes—on the desk, on the shelves, on top of a stack of pressed white uniforms, and even on the floor. It’s obvious the dojang has won its fair share of competitions.
Noah closes the door behind him and rests his back against it. He nudges his glasses up on his nose. “Hey, I’m sorry about what happened earlier, at temple,” he says to me. “That was pretty rough. I can only imagine what you must be going through right—”
“Thanks,” I quickly interrupt before he can say anything else to raise Emmett’s suspicions. “I understand you know how to summon Mago Halmi,” I say instead, looking at Hattie for confirmation.
“I can’t say I’ve ever done it before or know anyone who’s tried,” Noah responds. “From what I’ve heard, none of the gifted councils in the country have approved a summoning-spell application for years. But I have seen it in our family spellbook. I even memorized it, because it looked so badass.”
“I told you so,” Hattie says to me, looking smug.
“Would you be willing to teach it to us?” I ask.
Noah pauses and glances over at Hattie.
“We know it’s illegal,” I quickly add, “but we wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. And we wouldn’t tell anyone about your involvement, of course.”
Hattie nods. “It’s the only way we can think of to save our family.”
Noah runs his hand through his hair before answering. “Okay, I’ll teach you. Anything to provide and protect—it is our clan motto, after all.”
Emmett and I raise our eyebrows at each other. That’s an excuse if I ever heard one. We both know the real reason Noah is helping us is because he likes Hattie. Not that I’m complaining.
Noah rummages through the mess on his dad’s desk and somehow finds a pen and some paper. “I’ll write down the incantations for you, but you’ll also need to find some ashes of death and the elixir of life to complete the spell. That, and a willing initiated witch.”
Hattie raises her hand. “Willing witch present and accounted for.”
“Any chance you have access to some ashes of death?” Noah asks.
We all go quiet. They’re not exactly something you can find on the shelves of a supermarket, and I’ve never seen them stocked at our clinic.
Emmett clears his throat and slowly raises his finger—the one with his silver band on it. “Could this work? It contains some of my mom’s ashes.” He coughs uncomfortably. “There’s only a tiny bit in there, though, and I’m not sure how much you’d need….”
“You’d only need a pinch,” Noah confirms, “so that could work, if you’re willing.”
“No!” I shake my head furiously. “Absolutely not. Not your ring, Em. It’s your most prized possession.”
“But I’d get the ring back, wouldn’t I?” Emmett asks Noah.
Noah nods. “We only need the ashes.”
“In that case, I’ll offer it up. The sooner we get this done, the quicker we can go back to our normal lives. All this magic stuff gives me indigestion.”
I frown and study Emmett’s face. “Are you sure? Like, swear-on-your-salted-caramel-cookie-recipe sure?”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. The rest of the urn is at home. And besides, the ashes aren’t what’s important.”
The ring used to be his mom’s wedding band before it was refashioned for Emmett. He once told me, in a rare moment of candor, that the ring was special to him because it represented his parents’ love—and their love created him.
I pull Emmett in for a hug. “Thank you.”
He scowls and pushes me away. “You’ve heard me before—emotions give you wrinkles. Simple cause and effect.”
Noah
passes the handwritten incantations to Hattie. “So, that just leaves the elixir of life.”
“That’s here somewhere, right?” I ask, remembering what Hattie had said. The Miru had one of the things needed for the spell.
He frowns. “Well, not exactly. The Joseon Chalice is kept here at the dojang, yes. It’s the sacred chalice of King Sejong the Great from the Joseon dynasty. Did you guys know he was gifted? Anyway, the artifact itself is not the elixir of life. The witch has to collect the elixir in the chalice along with the ashes for the spell to work.”
“So what is the elixir, then?” I ask, my stomach dropping. “Do we have to find an infuser or something? David Kim is the only Tokki I sort of know, and he lives on the other side of the city.”
Noah pauses cautiously before answering. “The elixir of life is blood. Blood must be drawn from the witch and collected in the chalice.”
I freeze. Did he just say blood?
I turn to Hattie. “You knew, didn’t you?” I feel bubbles of anger rising in my throat. “And you purposely didn’t tell me.”
She looks sheepish. “I knew you’d try to stop me if I did.”
“Of course I’d stop you!” I shout. “I can’t make you bleed for me!” It’s enough that Emmett is giving up his mom’s ashes without my sister having to hurt herself, too.
Hattie comes over and grips me by the shoulders. “Riley, I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m doing this for me, too, okay? They’re also my parents, and the last thing I want is for them to lose their gifts. And you know what else I don’t want? I don’t want to lose my only sister. A few drops of blood to prevent that from happening is a price I will happily pay. Besides, Eomma or Appa can heal me later.”
I take a big breath. I still feel nauseated at the thought of Hattie having to bleed for this spell to work. But she’s not wrong. We’re in deep now, and this is our only way out.
“Fine.” I squeeze her so tight, her eyes start to bulge out of her head. “I owe you. Big-time.”
Noah walks across the room and bends over to pick up a dusty trophy hiding behind a photo of some people in Taegwondo whites. It’s a small, unassuming cup that’s been sitting there so long the metal has dulled to a tawny brown.
“The chalice has been enchanted to automatically return to this position within four hours, so you’ll need to be quick.” He polishes the trophy’s face with the bottom of his T-shirt, and a golden sheen emerges.
“Wait, that’s the Joseon Chalice?” I ask. The six-hundred-year-old sacred artifact is a tacky-looking trophy gathering dust in his dad’s messy office?
Emmett gawks. “It wasn’t even inside a glass cabinet.”
Noah runs his hand through his hair in that carefree way of his. “Sometimes putting a thing in plain sight is the best hiding place of all.”
“Genius!” Hattie beams, and Noah grins back at her so hard his two dimples look like sinkholes on his face.
“Holy shirtballs, get a room, lovebirds,” Emmett says with a snicker.
Hattie throws us a death glare before turning back to Noah. “Thank you so much for helping us. And for lending us the chalice. But we better go. It’s already dark outside, and we need to find a quiet place to do the spell.”
He hands her the chalice, and when their fingers touch, they jolt away from each other as if they’ve been electrocuted.
Noah rubs the back of his neck shyly. “You’re gonna need all the power you can get for the spell. How about I take you through the Saturday School portal to Santa Monica Pier? My brother is on guard duty there tonight, so I can sneak you in. The spell will work best if you go into the ocean at high tide and get the full strength of the moon’s pull behind you.”
“We share the same sky as the Godrealm,” I explain to Emmett, who is looking confused at the mention of the ocean, “so our moon is part of the divine. It gives spells more oomph, if you know what I mean.”
Emmett shrugs. “Whatever you say.”
Hattie nods gratefully. “You’re a gem, Noah. Thank you so much!”
Emmett makes kissy noises and whispers in my ear, “Oh yes, you’re such a gem, Mr. Oh-Noh. You can bling me up anytime.”
Noah’s eyes widen behind his glasses, while Hattie throws up her hands in exasperation. “Dude, what does that even mean?”
I laugh heartily. I know that we’re about to summon the mother of all creation and that Hattie will have to sacrifice her own blood to make it work. But the truth is, I can’t think of any two people I’d rather be with right now. One thing is for sure—I would be utterly and overwhelmingly lost without my sister and best friend.
BY THE TIME WE SNEAK OUT of the dojang and get to Saturday School, it’s well and truly night. Noah arranges to take over his brother’s shift in exchange for access to the noraebang.
We enter room 18, and as the glamour-reveal song loads, I stand there, trying to ignore the phone vibrating in my pocket. It’s been buzzing for ages now, but I can’t bear to look at the increasing number of missed calls showing on my screen, much less actually answer it. My parents will have seen our note by now, and I imagine Eomma’s glasses fogging up in panic as Appa reads it out loud, his forehead creasing with worry. The guilt bubbles inside me like trapped air, and a bout of hiccups escapes my mouth.
Hattie takes my hand reassuringly. She knows hiccups are my tell when I’m nervous. “Everything is gonna be okay. The sooner we get this summoning over and done with, the sooner you’ll become a Gom. And the sooner that happens, the sooner our parents’ crime will be pardoned. We’re doing the right thing.”
The Gumiho glamour on the noraebang room dissolves as we sing “Fake Love” for the second time this week, and I survey the classroom. The wall mural of Santa Monica Pier is just as impressive as when I first saw it. The Ferris wheel and roller coaster are bright and inviting, and the waves lapping against the wooden poles look as fresh and foamy as an ice-cream soda.
“All right, stand back,” Noah says, stepping toward the mural and rubbing his wrists together. As his gifted mark glows blue, he starts chanting.
“Nae nunape inneungeot,
Geurimsoge inneungeot.
Nuneul keuge tteugo boseyo,
Muni jamsi yeollyeoyo.”
“What’s he saying?” Emmett whispers in my ear. His dad doesn’t speak Korean, so the only words he knows are the ones he’s picked up from hanging out at our house over the years.
I listen hard as Noah repeats the chant, and I translate it for Emmett.
“The thing that is in front of me,
Inside the picture that I see.
Use your eyes, look carefully,
A door opens momentarily.”
The next thing I know, the sound of crashing waves fills my eardrums. My lips tingle, and when I lick them, I taste the salt of the sea.
“Sorry I can’t come with you,” Noah says, rubbing the back of his neck. “My brother is about to leave his post, and I can’t leave the portal unguarded.” He unfolds a weird kid’s scooter he’s been carrying since the dojang and gives it a little nudge, forward and back. “But I thought this might help for the trip home.”
We all stare at it, unsure what to say. First of all, it’s tiny. It looks the perfect size for a six-year-old kid, not for three teenagers. Second, the trip from Santa Monica to our house can take an hour by car. I can only imagine how long it would take by scooter—and none of us have helmets, either. Third and most important, it looks all types of strange. It’s covered in shiny blue scales, and two webbed ears poke out from the handle bars. Little wings are attached to either side of the front wheel, and a pointy tail sticks out from the back. It looks like the spawn of a dragon mom and scooter dad.
“Uh, what is that?” Emmett asks.
“He’s a dragon-on-wheels. We Miru use them before our gifts kick in—when our parents want us to practice moving at super speed, but within safe parameters. I guess you could call them training wheels for protectors.” He pats the handlebars affec
tionately.
“Ahh!” I point at the back. “His tail just wagged!”
Noah tickles the scooter behind the ears. “My man Boris and I go way back. Ever since I got him for my sixth birthday. A real firecracker, this one. He might be getting a bit rusty, but he’s still got a few trips left in him. Don’t ya, buddy?”
Boris’s little wings flutter happily in response, but then he splutters and wheezes like an old man.
Noah looks a little embarrassed, but he quickly hides it with one of his easy smiles. “Sorry. I know he’s not perfect, but hopefully he’ll be better than nothing. Use him for as long as you need.” He pushes the dragon-on-wheels toward Hattie.
“Thanks,” she says, though I can’t imagine what we’re going to do with it.
“Oh, and one more thing,” says Noah. He takes a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and extends it to her. “Here. You’ll need this, too, for the…”
The cutting, I silently finish for him, wincing.
“Thank you,” Hattie says. “This would’ve been impossible without you.”
“And please be careful, won’t you? I won’t forgive myself if something bad happens to you.”
Noah’s declaration of feelings toward my sister is so open and honest that even Emmett doesn’t dare to crack a joke.
Hattie pockets the knife and nods. “We will.”
And with that, she folds Boris, tucks him under her arm, and strides through the wall. As she passes through the mural, her body pixelates as if she’s a digital image in the middle of loading. Then she simply disappears.
“Whoa.” Emmett tries to hide his reaction, but I see the momentary look of awe on his face. “Are you sure it’s safe for a saram and a halfie to pass through?” He points to me and himself, reminding me that I’m keeping the biggest secret of my life from my BFF.
Noah nods. “Totally safe. Good luck, guys.”
We hurry in after Hattie, and the barrier feels cool and almost liquid, as if we’re passing through a wall of Jell-O.
Once we’re on the other side, we find ourselves standing on the beach underneath the Santa Monica Pier, and the gentle night breeze is blowing wisps of hair onto my face. Hattie’s a few feet away, but there isn’t another soul out for miles. From the damp outline on the sand, it looks like high tide has just passed, but I hope the spell will still work the way it’s supposed to. I take off my shoes and feel the soft sand squish between my toes. It’s still warm from a day of soaking up the summer sun, and it feels so good that I dig my feet in.
