Silvern (The Gilded Series) (28 page)

Images of the ceiling collapsing on me crowd my mind. My bow gets stuck twice, and I have to yank and twist to get it free. There’s no way I’m leaving my bow in the depths of this cave. Panic keeps taunting me, and the air is thin from lack of oxygen.

When I crawl out of the space, I find myself in a large cavern. I brush the dust off and strap on my case and backpack. Doors of different sizes line the walls on either side. Each has a different symbol imprinted on it. I spot a
samjoko
symbol like the one Sun sketched into her journal on one of the doors.

The pull of the Spirit World tugs at me from each door. It’s that same draw I experienced outside of the archery facility.

But the light from the orb spears ahead, straight across a narrow, natural bridge, slick and wet from the condensation dripping from above. It’s not really a bridge, more like the tip of a rock that happens to stretch to the other side. The sides fall down into an endless nothingness. I can’t even see the floor.

On the other side of the chasm stands the strangest of all the doors, round with fiery-red Chinese symbols in its center and snakes twisting around its edges.

This is it
, I realize. All I have to do is cross this bridge. It’s simple.

As long as I don’t slip and plummet to my death.

I drop to my hands and knees, dizzy, and push myself along the bridge, which looks more like a balance beam than anything. I squeeze the rock between my legs and grip what I can of the sides. My body slips easily along, and that worries me. A wrong move or a tilt too far left or right would send my body flying below. My backpack and bow combined throw off my balance. It pains me, but I know I need to get rid of my pack.

Shimmying backward, I scramble back onto the rocky shelf where I began and toss away my backpack. Without its extra weight, I already feel lighter. I hope I don’t come to regret leaving it behind.

Sucking in a gulp of stale air, I plant myself back on the bridge. The going is slow and painful. Halfway across, my pants catch a tip of rock sticking out. It snags before I realize what’s happening, and I teeter. My bow throws me off-balance, and I’m slipping over the edge. Frantically, I grasp the rock, my legs dangling below me over nothingness. My arms burn as I try to pull myself back up on the bridge. I grunt, straining, and slowly, I inch my way back up until I lie belly flat on the moist bridge, heart pumping. It takes me forever to move again. I must. It’s the only way to survive.

When I finally slap my hands on the rock shelf on the other side, I practically hug the ground, so grateful to have made it. I only hope I can open the round door. I really don’t want to think about going back the way I’ve come.

Slowly, I stand, and as I reach for the door, it’s almost as if the whole rock shelf pulses with a thrumming beat. A thin wisp of smoke trails out from the keyhole and curls around me.

“Who seeks the forgotten?” it whispers into my ear. “Who treads darkness’s halls?”

“I, Lee Jae Hwa, seek the presence of Kud.” My voice is nothing more than a breathless gasp.

“Yesssss,” the smoke hisses. “So you do. So you shall.”

The entire door spins, clicking as it does. Right two notches, left three, a full circle, and then it stops. The bronze knocker, which is a face with a mouth frozen wide open in a scream, sinks inward. As it does, the door groans as if full of agony. There is nothing to do but step inside. Yet instead of touching a hard rock path, my foot finds nothing, and I fall.

I scream, my heart jammed into my throat. I grope for something, but there is nothing but stars and endless space. I must be in the place outside time, I realize. The void between worlds. I plunge, my hair flying, and clutch my bow tight, determined not to lose it. A panicked sensation fills me as I fall endlessly. Did I make the wrong choice? I’m about to give up hope when the orb shoots a beam of light toward a red door, shimmering like fire in the distance.

I focus on the door and put all my energy into reaching toward it until my fingers scrape its surface. The moment I touch it, it disappears and I’m tumbling onto a hard, rocky surface, not much different from the one I left. My head smashes against a rock, and I feel faint.

When I finally open my eyes, a red haze fills my vision. Two round holes that remind me of eye sockets gape at me.

I’m lying in a pile of bones.

My eyes widen, and I feel the scream rising up within me, shoving its way up my throat until it echoes through the hall like a clap of thunder. I scramble to my feet, shaking off the bits and shards clinging to me. I clamber out of the pile to the center of what I realize is a passageway. This one has smooth rounded walls with strange crimson symbols as tall as myself carved into their surface. I move closer to one and realize fire burns within the etchings. I shudder as the evil of this place seeps into my skin all the way to my bones, until they physically ache.

My throat burns. I wonder if the air within these passageways is poisonous.

The corridor looms before me in shifting red waves, like heat waves rising off the pavement on a hot day. I take deep breaths to calm myself as I unzip my bow and tie my
goong dae
to my waist. Then I place the two bronze tips onto arrows and notch one into my bow before striding down the corridor, following the orb’s beam of light.

The bones make the hike cumbersome, and at times I have to clamber over them, gritting my teeth at the thought of stepping on other victims’ remains so carelessly. With every step, my anger burns stronger. My fingers itch to shoot my arrow through Kud’s heart.

Shadows begin to swirl around me. They sting my ankles, trailing their way up my calves beneath my pants. Terrified, I press my hands over my ankles, hoping to stop the pain.

I pick up my pace, stumbling and crashing like a wild animal, hoping to outmaneuver the wisps of burning smoke. Soon the orb draws me into a new tunnel, this one filled with water. The walls are smooth as alabaster with arched ceilings. Candles are scattered about, floating on the water’s surface. I hesitate for a moment, unsure whether the water is safe, when I hear a sudden, high-pitched scream.

My heart constricts, and I rush heedlessly through the ankle-deep water. The water burns my skin and tears at my flesh. I’m screaming until I stumble into a wider area, where I crumple to the floor in agony. The water must have been acid. I can’t even open my eyes to check on my injuries while my consciousness wavers. But within a few moments I recover, revived from the Spirit World’s power, I suppose. I manage to stand and stagger closer to the two massive pillars reaching far above. Candelabras stretch out on either side, flanking me like soldiers. The scent of candle wax hangs in the air.

Droplets of fire rain down around me. Something plops onto my shoulder and sizzles. My eyes widen as I realize my jacket is on fire. I swat at my shoulder and spin in a circle, trying to wrap my mind around what is happening. That’s when I gaze above, into the arched ceiling. It’s carved just like the walls of the first tunnel, with more fiery symbols, and it casts down bits of sparks every once in a while like rain droplets.

A scream shatters the stillness again, and I race to the source of the sound. I skid to a halt at the top of a stairway, nearly tumbling down.

The room below reminds me of an ancient cathedral. Pillars span the open area, and arches roll one after the next along the sides, leading all the way to a platform at the far end of the chamber. Between each pillar, fire pits burn, casting up forklike crimson flames. On top of the platform sits a massive throne made of twisted metal rods roped around each other to resemble hundreds of snakes.

Two clawlike bones rooted at the base of the throne curl above it to form almost a circle. Yet the ends never meet, instead displaying sharp tips at the top.

And there sits Kud, arms draped over snake-head armrests, their tongues flicking out alive and hungry. He’s dressed in his black robe, his draping hood shadowing his face. The tendrils of his robe slither out, ravenous eels along the base of the platform, always moving.

My eyes follow one particular tentacle that is taut and stretched out all the way to one of the thick stone pillars. The tentacle is wrapped around a body like a cocoon. My heart seizes as I recognize those wide brown eyes and the hair pinned back with butterfly clips.

Michelle.

I pull my bowstring taut and let my arrow fly. Before I even check to see if it’s hit its mark, I break into a sprint, screaming, “No!”

I’m not even halfway across the open floor when panels in the wall burst open, and out bound five gigantic hounds aimed straight toward me. I stagger to a stop, backtracking as they bark, blood drooling from their jaws.

The Bulgae.

Or so the legends have named the dark god’s lapdogs.

They don’t attack instantaneously, even though their eyes practically bulge from their sockets and their necks strain to devour me. Some unseen leash is keeping them in check.

“So good of you to visit me, Princess.” Kud’s voice oozes across the hall as he plucks my arrow out of the armrest snake’s eye. “I was worried that you would never pay me a visit. Yet here you are. How timely.”

“Let Michelle go,” I say, aiming at him once again with my bow. “She is not a part of this.”

He laughs, a mirthless gurgle. My hate for him freezes me; it’s even deeper than anger.

“You amuse me, Princess. Perhaps you are jealous? You should be.” He stands and his robe shifts, a swirling darkness. “She is beautiful and so full of life.”

A tentacle loosens from Michelle’s lips. “Jae,” she says. “You were right. I shouldn’t have listened to him. I didn’t realize—” A sob catches in her throat.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” I say.

I let my arrow fly. It hits with perfect aim, sinking into where Kud’s heart must be, but he lifts his arm as if batting away a fly. The arrow clatters to the floor.

“Do not bother with such trinkets. Unlike Haemosu, I do not have a heart. I am purely spirit. I exist on the darkness this land provides.”

Michelle whimpers and tears stream down her cheeks from panicked eyes. I should never have let her get involved. This is all my fault.

As if reading my thoughts, Kud says, “Insurance policy, as you humans like to phrase it. Two are more useful than one.”

“Where is Marc?” I demand.

“Somewhere.” He laughs again, as if this is a game that he’s been anxious to play for some time. I attempt to mask the dread that I’m sure is filling my face. How can I stop this monster?

“Hand over the orb and all will be as you wish.”

“I won’t negotiate with Michelle bound and held hostage,” I say. “You must let her go and return her to Seoul.”

Kud’s form grows, expanding before my eyes. His hood falls back enough that I can see his gaping mouth. A piercing growl emanates from him, and the sickle lying by his throne sails to his fingertips. He pounds the ground with its hilt. The floor shudders, and the hounds howl in response, shaking their heads. Sweaty blood slobber flings across the stone floor.

“Who do you think you are?” he asks. “Your games were once fun, but I know every secret you bear. Do not forget your place, human. I never take no as an answer, and you have tried my patience too long.”

In horror, I watch his sickle spin in his palm and lift above his head. Fumbling, I grasp for my orb, which somehow has hidden itself back beneath my shirt. I clamp my fingers around it. An explosion of light bursts from the orb, and like a bolt of lightning, it hits the sickle.

The tentacles release Michelle from the pillar and shove her forward, so she meets the tip of the sickle and it cuts into her chest. Her scream pierces the air, shattering my soul.

She latches hold of the sickle and rips it out of the tentacle’s grasp. Then she spins around and plunges it into the hound beside her. The dog shrieks and collapses to the floor before evaporating to dust.

“No!” Kud rages. “How dare you destroy one of my beloved creatures?”

Michelle leans over the sickle, gasping, and glares at Kud. “Go to hell where you all belong.”

The tentacles flock her, grasping for the sickle. She tries to fight for it but collapses to the floor. I’m at Michelle’s side, dragging her slumped body into my arms. I see nothing but darkness around me. My whole focus is Michelle, the orb illuminating her perfect face. It’s ashen now. Her lips tremble and her eyes widen with fear. She gasps, as if breathing is too difficult to bear.

Blood gushes from the wound in her chest. My hands flutter over her body, my mind reeling.

“You were my best friend,” she whispers. “I’m glad you told me your secret.”

I shake my head, damned tears streaming down my face. “I’m going to save you. Just hold on for a little longer.”

“Don’t give him what he wants,” she gasps. Her eyes bulge. “You have to destroy him.”

“Please. No. Don’t go!”

“The swords.” Her voice is thinner than air. I press my ear to her lips. “He fears them.”

Her body shudders, and her grip tightens on my arm. And then she lets me go, and her body sags against the floor. Her glassy eyes stare into the darkness, and I know she’s gone.