Page 32 of Reign of the Talon
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As we continue on our path toward the capital, I close my eyes and seek out Haneul. Whatever ploy he utilized to hide from me last night is not in effect now, a development that is both pleasing and confusing. I do not know where he was last night, but it was somewhere I could not follow.
Now, though, he is deep in conversation with his advisor. Jeong Kang. I sneer.
They are in what I assume is a room in the Wyusan Palace, standing before a long wooden table groaning under the weight of dozens of books, scrolls, jars of ink, and herbs. Kang is grinding herbs with a pestle, his lips a thin line as that boy, Seojin, heats silver medical tools over the fire crackling in the corner.
“Chan is gone,” Kang is panting as Haneul drags a hand over his face. “I cannot find him anywhere.”
“Gyeulcheon?” the emperor asks, but Kang shakes his head as he pours a dark liquid into the mortar and combines it with the herbs to create a thick paste.
“He is not in Gyeulcheon, and he is not here. Seojin, take these”—he hands the concoction to the boy—“and make sure they’re applied straight to the festering wounds.” As Seojin nods and runs out, Kang turns back to Haneul. “There is a soldier we can’t relocate to Gyeulcheon yet. He’s too weak.”
“Do you,” Haneul grits out, “have any idea where the Supreme Commander has gone?”
“I have a very good idea,” Kang says quietly, “and I think that you do, too.”
I have an inkling, as well. I narrow my eyes as Haneul mutters a curse and whirls around.
“Where are you going?” Kang asks.
“To stop him—”
“Rui.” His advisor’s voice is firm. “You are needed here, and in Gyeulcheon. Let Chan go. He is capable.”
Slowly, the emperor turns around. His eyes sear with that horrible Dokkaebi fire. “I have not forgotten what—or who—caused this war,” he breathes. “Do not try to stop me, Kang.”
The advisor flinches but presses on. “Rui, she isgone. You know that we need her destroyed. The troops heard you call for her to be taken alive during the Battle of Seocheonkkotbat, and they are confused. We can’t have opposition in our ranks. Chan was pushed by your inaction.”
“I just need tim—” Something crosses Haneul’s face, and he abruptly snaps his mouth shut.
His eyes somehow stray to mine, where I stand before their scene in the darkness. Only for a moment, yet it is enough for me to wonder if the Dokkaebi somehow senses me. I watch, intently, as Haneul swallows hard. Something like…realization…shoots down the red thread of fate.
“You need time?” Kang asks quietly. “Time for what?”
“Chan is going to get himself killed,” Haneul grits out. “He cannot go rogue like this.”
“I am sure that the Supreme Commander understands the risk.”
“Our troops need him.”
“They need you more.”
“He is my best warrior—”
“Then let him do this,” Kang says, but he sounds uncertain, as if he is no longer sure he possesses the right to advise his emperor. “Let him go.”
Haneul closes his eyes. “I understand that we cannot hold back from this war, but there are things you do not comprehend.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t,” the emperor whispers. “She could be watching, Kang. She’s alwayswatching…”
My eyes flare open.
What is this secret Haneul is keeping from me? What is so clandestine that he fears to utter it, for the possibility I am monitoring him? What strategy, whatplot, is this Dokkaebi forming? My mood darkens as I stroke Sonagi’s scales, staring out at small specks of villages in the distance.
“Sonagi,”I say,“it seems as if we will soon be joined by an unexpected guest.”
