Page 33 of Reign of the Talon
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Prisoner
“Rise to your feet, Shin Lina. One last time.”
The words ring in my ears, over and over and over again, as I fall into something almost resembling sleep—and as I sink into it, I find not the empty darkness I expect, but my sister.
She is underneath the cherry blossom tree, sitting in the tall grass, but this time she is alone. Sang is not with her—only two small dolls of straw, which she has hopping back and forth, acting out the story that spills from her lips.
It is a story I know well. A story I told her, just nights before her death, snuggling next to her in bed, attempting to comfort her after she’d discovered the death of the Talons. I’d whispered of a selfish man named Bak, who refused to share his wealth with his impoverished neighbors, only to be given a rather rough awakening by none other than Yeomra himself. Bak, having fallen fatally ill, slipped quietly into Jeoseung only to find that his place of rest within the realm of the dead was cold and barren, influenced by his wickedness in the world of the living.
“Bak was sad,” Eunbi murmurs, the doll that must be Bak drooping a bit in her hand while the doll that must be Yeomra shakes one of its small fists. “But Yeomra gave him another chance, because it wasn’t really his time to die yet… Bak had things to do, first…”
Death is coming for us both, Lina. It is only a question of how we choose to meet it.
Throat tight, I draw closer to Eunbi. She’s frowning a little, as if in intense concentration, her lower lip jutting out just a bit. Has she forgotten the end of the story? I watch as she thinks, long and hard, for a moment.
Eunbi brightens.
“—andthen,” she finally says, the Bak doll perking back up, “Bak returned to the world of the living, where he fought to redeem himself!”
It is as if an echo of the past has made its way here. The words are, verbatim, what I whispered into her ear all those months ago. And hearing them now, from Eunbi, strikes some chord deep inside me, harmonizing with the plea that Rui left me with. Slowly, I sink to my knees as Eunbi adds on her own variation to the story—in which Bak adopts a small army of woodland animals, marries a runaway princess who’s actually a goddess in disguise, and founds a restaurant catering toward hungry ghosts—and wonder.
I used to believe so fully in the gods. Part of me wants to believe this vision of Eunbi, this story, is sent by them—that through these signs, they urge me to fight back, just as Rui does.
Yet they abandoned us long ago. And I was never worthy of their gaze.
But could I…do it? Reclaim the body that has been so violated by the Prophecy?
Exist in a world without my little sister?
The thought has a wave of sickness rolling through me like an unstoppable tide. Needing some small semblance of comfort, I reach for Eunbi.
My fingers graze the silken pink fabric of her hanbok.
Her head jerks up with a small gasp. I freeze as her eyes suddenly dart upward. Not onto me, but close enough that my heart stops beating.
“Hello?” she whispers. Can she not see me, as I thought she once did? “Is that…reallyyou?” She frowns, squinting, as if looking through a fogged window. “I feel you. In here.” She hesitantly taps her chest.
My hands flutter helplessly. I want to speak to her, but I can’t—as my voice rises in my throat, something pushes it back down. My fear. My shame. My guilt. And Eunbi does not know the Quiet Language, nor can she seem to see me.
Eunbi clambers to her feet, still looking around. “If it is you…” She frowns, and my heart breaks as, all of a sudden, I see confused hurt and betrayal on her face. “If it is you, I-I’m somadat you!” She stomps a foot, throwing her dolls down onto the ground. “Every day, so many more souls come down here, and they all say it’s because ofyou.”
She may as well have stabbed me in the heart.
“What are youdoing?” Eunbi cries, scrubbing at her face with an arm, glancing about like she might catch a glimpse of me—but never seeing me, not truly. “You need to—to stop. Please, it’s not too late tostop… You can be Good, if you just try. Please, just try!”
The vision fades, and I wake with a gasp, my hands scrabbling at the cold floor of my cell, Eunbi’s pleas ringing in my ears. She thinks—that the Prophecy isme. Of course she does. To her, there is no distinction. To so many others. Nobody, save for Rui, has seen this cell.
And if these visions of Jeoseung truly are as real as I’m beginning to think they are, if my death comes and I find myself in the underworld…with all those the Prophecy has killed…faced with the horrible truth that I never lifted a finger in their defense…faced with Eunbi’s disgust…
It’s not too late to stop. Please, just try.
Try to find redemption, like Bak.
Try to face death as anything but a puppet to this Prophecy.
One last time. One last time.
