Page 59 of Reign of the Talon
Here, the memory falters. I know that when this happened, I laughed Sang off, arguing that Yoonho was a crime lord, he had a kingdom to run, and besides, revenge was important. Now, though, when I fail to deliver my line, the silence stretches on, silence where Sang’s retorts to my defense would have been.Why this memory?I wonder. Why has my mind plucked this one from the depths of my consciousness to show me?
Yet I think I already know.
It is one thing, to feel remorse for violence wreaked.
It is another to look at that ugly, vengeful part of yourself and…acknowledge where it stemmed from. To try to find yourself again.
To pick yourself back up, one last time. To rise from the ashes of a destruction you created through your own hunger for revenge.
Only after a few moments of reflective silence does somebody else speak, picking up where the missing dialogue would have ended.
“Look at Sang,” Chara says affectionately, passing him the bottle of wine. “Quite the philosopher.”
He ducks his head, hiding his smile. “I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, and then the Talons ripple and disappear as the memory ends. They leave me with a heavy heart in the middle of the garden as the willow tree shudders and cleaves in two, replaced by a staircase.
The chain around my neck grows heavier, and I look down. Next to the beast’s key is another one, small and dark green, this one with a charm attached to it in the shape of a weeping willow.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
The Prophecy
“No?” I read, the parchment crumpling in my fists, fresh black ink dribbling onto the ground.“No?”
Haneul will not make the trade, will not exchange Song Iseul for Kim Chan. I can hardly believe it.
Fury radiates off me, and in response, I feel a glimmer of smug satisfaction down the bond. Gritting my teeth, I stalk over to where the muscular Dokkaebi rests, bound and gagged, against a tree. With disdainful fingers, I peel the drugged gag from his mouth and brandish the crumpled slip of parchment in front of his bleary eyes. “Your emperor will not save you,” I hiss to him, finding only a semblance of satisfaction in the way hatred blooms in that hazy gaze. Hatred for me—or for Haneul? “He does not deem you worth it.” As the general glares defiantly up at me, I stuff the gag back into his mouth and grind the paper to a pulp underneath my heel.
“Fine,” I hiss. Let’s see how smug Haneul is when the Beast Wall is razed to the ground, and Sanyeongto is mine.
…
Night falls, and the battle begins.
Serpents rise from the sea, seaweed clinging to their scales, water sluicing off their giant bodies as they take the wall. Sonagi and I ride to that edge, waiting some miles away for the opening to be created as inhuman roars fill the night. The smell of blood carries on the wind, and with my sharp hearing, it is no small matter to make out the fireforged arrows—created, like the fireswords, in dokkaebibul—screaming through the air. I do not know how many hit their mark.
The siege on the Beast Wall is a vicious, violent thing. I do so enjoy it. The Dokkaebi are nothing but frantic specks on the wall, fighting off the horde of Imugi as they destroy the wall. As, after what must be two hours, the granite crumbles. Cascades downward, in dust and stone.
“THE WALL HAS FALLEN!” I hear the soldiers shout. “THE WALL HAS FALLEN! REINFORCEMENTS TO THE WESTERN EDGE! REINFORCEMENTS TO THE WESTERN EDGE!”
Poor, foolish things.
After I discovered Haneul knew of my plan—fed it by the little spy in my head—a different strategy had to be put in place. And so far, it is working oh so perfectly. They now expect us to enter through the western edge of the Beast Wall, where the granite has crumbled and arrows are aimed downward, archers kneeling, fingers taut around their bows.
But I do so loathe being predictable. As the western edge is filled with reinforcements, Sonagi and I wait before the eastern edge, accompanied by Uloe and an unconscious Kim Chan.
On the western edge, atop Beongae, I have made a reluctant Bomin resemble me: hiding his features beneath a heavy cloak and shadow, placing him at the forefront of my Imugi phalanx. We have a similar build: slender, small, and the same skin tone. They will try to shoot him dead, I think, but it is of no matter to me. I suspect the intelligence will continue to come, even if the halji dealer is dead, as this useful Wyusan general will likely not learn of Bomin’s death in the chaos. And I filched his supply from his satchel and dropped it into mine.
Truthfully, Bang Bomin’s ridiculous top hat was the fuel behind this decision. I cannot bear the sight of it any longer.
I have kept Kim Chan alive for now, only out of convenience. Perhaps I can still torture intelligence concerning Bonseyo out ofhim, as well. But most importantly, I feel that there will be some future opportunity to torture Haneul with him.
Uloe will keep him alive and contained as I take Sanyeongto. As I slip off Sonagi, she smiles at me, golden eyes glittering in the nighttime. This specific spot of the wall is lacking guards, most of them having relocated to the western edge.
“I will ssseee you on the other ssside, Daughter,”she murmurs. She will wait here until the western edge is safe to pass through. I cannot risk losing her.
I nod in farewell and turn to the Beast Wall. Extending my scaleblades, I dig them into the crevices I can find in the granite and begin to haul myself up the length, climbing until my muscles begin to shake. This part will take me at least a few hours. The Beast Wall is hundreds of feet tall, and I must be careful not to lose my grip. Wind whips at my face as I climb higher, pressing myself as close to the granite as possible.
My Imugi are in Sanyeongto now. I can hear the screams, and I pause my climb to laugh. One step closer to Fulfillment. An age of dragons. They will occupy the Wyusan-Gyeulcheon armies until I arrive.
