Page 100 of Reign of the Talon
Does it not know that the sweetest fruit is rotten?
In one fast, swift motion, I unsheathe Rui’s firesword, summoning the blade of blue with a flick of the wrist. I rise to a crouch, the sword sweeping in a low arc as I spin, catching Yego by surprise. The Dalgyal Gwisin’s teeth chatter, panicked, and it lurches backward to avoid the graceful path of my weapon as it cuts through the air like a minnow might through a stream. I rise fully to my feet, my long hair rippling in a midnight wind as I narrow my eyes, surveying Yego in distaste. It stands unevenly, thrown off balance by its missing arm, the stub covered in dried, dark blood. Its rows of teeth are rotating hungrily, angrily, and when it cocks its head, its lank hair sticks to the sides of its sweaty, blank face.
I smile viciously and crook a finger at it.Come here.
It does.
Under the stars, we meet, Yego launching itself forward and I pushing forth to meet it. The blue blade of Rui’s firesword glimmers as I duck and dodge andstab.All those days, listening to Yego’s wetly rasped words, and believing every single one of them. Believing that I was worthless, that there was no chance at redemption for a creature as hideous and broken as me. IacceptedYego’s words as the unfailing truth; it made me believe that redemption was impossible.
I let those words gnaw me down into nothing but brittle bone.
But now? Now, I dart behind Yego so that our positions are reversed. The Dalgyal Gwisin’s back is to the pond, where the dark water awaits.
The harsh, bitter truth of it is that I will never reclaim those days I spent in the cell, with only Yego’s hateful hisses for company. But there could be more days ahead—more days to wash my hands of the blood they’re stained with. If I kill Yego. If we thwart the Prophecy.
Yego has never seen me fight like this, with the burning rage of a thousand suns. It knows—itknowsthat this battle is different than our scuffles on the stairs or in the snow. Perhaps it’s a glint in my eyes. Or maybe the way my teeth are bared as if I, too, am some feral beast. It staggers backward into the water.
I follow, barely feeling the chill of the pond.
“Just a taste,” rasps Yego. We circle each other now, like two sharks hungry for blood. The reflection of my sword glows blue in the water, which ripples with our movements. “My sweet morsel, my delicious mound of flesh…” Its throat is working, as if it is readying itself to release that debilitating scream. My eyes narrow and my sword arm draws back…
The first screech of that awful scream tears through the air, but so does my blade.
Released from my hand, it spears the Dalgyal Gwisin straight through the chest.
For a moment, neither of us moves. Breathing hard, I watch as the Demon looks almost comically to the hilt of the sword protruding from its body to me, as if it is in disbelief that its “sweet morsel” could have struck the killing blow. I wade toward it, wrapping my fingers back around the hilt. Blood seeps from its maw.
As I wrench out my blade, Yego falls into the dark pond, mouth slack. Its pale limbs shine as it floats atop the water before slowly dissolving into ash.
It is dead.
Washing the sword in the water of the pond, I run a finger delicately along the flat section of the blade. It’s inescapable, isn’t it? Yes. It is as Eunbi said: I am a killer. I have killed those who have deserved it and those who have not. I have run from this; I have hated myself for it.
Yet it follows. Always, it follows.
I stay in the pond for a long, long while.
…
Only when the tips of my fingers begin to grow blue do I trudge to the merrily crackling hearth and quilt-piled bed. I curl up atop it and stare at nothing, one hand wrapped around the three truths in my pocket.
Rui doesn’t come. Neither does my sister or the stairs. I do not know when I will be offered a way out from this level. Only that it must be tied…to Eunbi.
I have already realized that time passes differently in here, in this mindscape. What may seem an hour to me may be a day in the real world; what may seem like a day to me may only be an hour. I can only hope that time is moving slower on the outside than it is in here: with no staircase in sight, I am trapped, and I do not know for how long.
When I finally close my eyes and lose myself in the silent darkness, I float along the sea of unconsciousness, trailing a foot in its waters yet never sinking into it completely. On my eyelids, images of a smiling, curly-haired girl flicker and pulse like strobes of light. She spins and laughs and chases a butterfly.
Then she is running away, little more than a blur as she weaves through a kingdom of white mist and swirling cherry blossoms. Her feet pound on the uneven cobblestones. There are mountains in the distance, peaks of jade and onyx and quartz.
A small sigh escapes my lips as I let the vision tug me further down into the sea’s depths. Eunbi’s bare feet smack on the stones as she pumps her arms faster before skidding to a halt before a simple white hanok, yanking open the door and half tumbling inside.
“Sang,” Eunbi wails, barreling for the tearoom where the Talons sit around a low table on cushions, steaming cups of tea placed before them. The spymaster’s eyes widen as she sobs, launching herself into his arms. Chara and Chryse exchange concerned looks; Yoonho massages his chin grimly.
“Eunbi? What happened?”
“I don’t want to go back! Or talk to her ever again! She’s mean and—andevil!” Eunbi releases another desolate wail.
Alarm flickers in Sang’s hazel eyes. “Lina isn’t evil,” he says, voice almost hard. “She loved you more than anything in the world. Everything your big sister did, she did for you.”
