Page 99 of Reign of the Talon
Tricked. I have beentricked. Lured into a trap by Jeon Eunwoo.
I am beginning to understand Iseul’s hatred of birds.
The prince smiles. It looks stiff on him, but hopeful. “My father finally found a use for me,” he says as I clench my jaw hard enough that a molar cracks, sending a burst of pain through my mouth. “He did not release me on my birthday as I told you. He released me just before you claimed Wyusan, with a bargain. Lure you here, and trigger the rockfall. There is a lever, you see…one hidden just around the bend. A defense, he said, for Bonseyo in times of war. If I completed this mission for him, he’d acknowledge me as his son.” Eunwoo’s eyes glisten, something springing to life in their dead depths. “I can live in the palace. With him.”
“Youfool,” I spit, digging my nails into my palms—but it is not the prince who is the fool. It is me. All this time, I assumed Bonseyo cared not for the strategizing of war, too busy with their feuding dynasty and other such trivialities. I became complacent, and I—Shin Lina, the Prophecy, the Goddess of Wrath—wasmanipulated. Believing myself so ahead, I gave my trust to a bastard prince with a desire to be loved.
And my fatal mistake was deeming that desire wearisome, rather than dangerous. I saw this desire as a weakness, yet it has been weaponized against me. Eunwoo wove a story, and I believed it.
“Do you think he’ll ever love you?” I spit. “You could have had everything. Victory. A title. And yet.” My laugh is bitter and cold as I search for more words, for more time to buy myself and my army. “You sacrifice it all for a father’s lie. You tell the gods of my route. You bring death upon your own head.”
Eunwoo balks but quickly recovers. “I wasn’t the one who alerted the gods,” the bastard prince says. And this time, when he smiles, I know it is a smile he has learned from me. It is a cruel smile. Sharp and jagged. “Although I won’t complain that they’re here.”
My breathing is little more than a furious, shallow panting. “If not you—”
“Me.”
The world goes still as Song Iseul dismounts the Imugi she rides on. She stares me down, reaching behind her to grip her ax as her words ring in my ears. “It was me,” she says, tilting her head. “You’re not Lina,” she spits, slowly walking backward to join the gods. Iseul’s lip curls. “You’re not my friend. All you are is atyrannicalbitch.”
I knew it.I laugh again, this time hard enough that my shoulders shake. “And you think thatthiswill bring her back?” I manage to gasp out. Dalnim’s arrow is still trained on me, and I eye it as subtly as I can, gauging the speed at which it will fly, how quickly I can shift out of the way. “Oh, no, Song Iseul. You’ve made a grave miscalculation. They want to kill me. And if I die, she dies. Surely Haneul explained that to you while you conspired.”
The Gumiho does not even attempt to deny it.
“He did,” Iseul replies. Her eyes move to Haneul. “I’m sorry,” she says. “But I was right the first time. This way is quicker, for everybody. And…the gods have ordained it. You have nobody, nothing, but your own hope on your side.”
“But Ga—” Haneul’s throat works, and he clamps his mouth shut. His terror pierces me in crashing, frothing waves.
I do not have time for this. Refusing to give these traitors the shock they so clearly long for, I look Dalnim directly in the eye. “Hurry up,” I snap and gesture impatiently. “I grow bored.”
Her brother makes a sound like he might laugh but instead composes himself and looks to Dalnim, who cocks a brow.
It happens quickly after that.
The arrow slices through the air, hurtling toward me like a falling star. Her last ambush prepared me well for this. I whip to the side, launching myself away from the weapon, just as the opposing army releases a mighty roar and rushes forward. Although the tunnel is wide—at least the size of a small field—the soldiers are packed in so tightly together that, as they approach, they are a monstrous wave of fury and fireswords.
“Fuck,”growls Haneul, and lunges for me.
We fall into darkness and shadow.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
The Prisoner
The cottage appears as the stars emerge, sparkling wistfully as I shiver in the night’s coldness, so hollow that I cannot even cry. Yet the longer I sit by the pond, waiting for my sister to return, the sharper that hollowness feels until I am not hollow at all. No, I am filled with a jagged darkness that rips me apart from the inside out until tears are finally sliding down my face and dripping off my nose.“I hate you,”Eunbi had said. She meant it, and I cannot blame her. A sob wracks my body, and as I hunch over in such visceral pain, that is when Yego appears.
I do not notice it at first, the chattering behind me, seeping from the deep shadows of the chogajip. Yet closer and closer it comes, and only when it is joined by the shuffling of bloated feet in the grass do I hear it. Closer and closer. My hand strays to the hilt of the firesword sheathed at my waist, yet my fingers falter, then freeze, just as they graze the cold metal.
“I hate you. I hate you.”
I do not…I do not draw my sword.
Hot, rancid breath steams against my neck, and I see Yego’s game with all such horrible clarity. Rui said that Dalgyal Gwisin are drawn to misery, like flies to sweet fruit. Yego…was waiting for this moment,waitingfor me to overripen like a peach, the anguish immersing me so completely that I am weakened, softened. All it will take is one small bite to pierce my flesh.
Will I let it?
Drool drips from its maw, landing on the back of my neck. I close my eyes.
Foolish, foolish demon.
