BA3 - Chapter 21

“We’re not—” I started with a stammer and Dokun raised a hand.

“Not you.” He smirked and looked to Woong-ji. “You.”

My jaw flexed but I kept all emotion from my face. I had assumed they were here for that purpose, but hadn’t been told outright, making it easier to lie. But now the jig was up. I cycled my zo down through my fists and I could see Hana do the same from the corner of my vision.

“Stop,” Woong-ji ordered, and I ceased my rhythmic cycling of breath.

She laced her fingers together in front of her. “We’re not simple, TK_Mr. Yamamotto. We know what happened. We’re here to recover information about Hiroto Law—the man who poisoned our school and our kingdom right under our very noses.”

Dokun raised an incredulous brow, but still had not made a move to protect himself or prepare for combat. He was either very confident that this wasn’t about to turn to blows, or completely unconcerned with any of us being a threat. My bet was on the latter.

Woong-ji went on. “Oh yes, rumors do travel that far. We know Hiroto was operating well outside your commands—something you allowed to continue because he was your blood, and too blinded by love to be stopped. We also know he has not returned to you and is still rampaging the oceans in your stolen machina, two very sensitive bits of information that could damage your reputation in Kokyu. We want these wars to be over as much as anyone—it’s been horrible for trade with Chi-ganya—and you’re on the path to making that happen.”

Dokun tutted. “You’re much better informed than I thought.”

Was I wrong? Their silent pain in the shared dream state seemed to point toward Dokun’s assassination as the real plot, but she said this with such ease and confidence that it sounded like honesty. Why hadn’t ween been told about this?

“We want information on the underwater machina he uses, what it’s operated by, how we can stop it. He’s a terror to our convoys, pilfering from our expeditions to the Great Sunken City.”

“The what?” I asked in awe.

Dokun hummed. “The Great Sunken City of Edo. Don’t they teach you anything when you become government operatives?”

Woong-ji cleared her throat. “These are students on a school trip. They have nothing to do with my assignment.”

He looked to me with amusement. “We’ll see.”

The elevator settled on the bottom level and the doors opened. Dokun was first to step out onto a metal platform. The construction was unlike anything I’d ever seen, except in images from the time of the ancients. The metal grate floor had long since lost its shine, and I could peer through the gaps to look down deeper into the abyss.

A whirring caught my attention as a bridge extended from the other end of the platform. If anything were to go wrong, we would be trapped here. The platform jostled as the bridge connected, then locked in place.

Dokun waved us forward. “We’re nearly there.”

We followed him down the hall in silence, my jaw burned from clenching it shut. I wanted to ask Woong-ji a million questions about the city of Edo, and our true purpose here, but knew this wasn’t the time. She seemed to have a relative handle on the situation, as terrifying as it was, and as her apprentice it was not my place to be in control, but to support her.

I sought out Mae again, trying to find someone to confide in, but she pushed me from her disc. It was as if there was a black void in my chest where my munje and my thoughts could not go. Whatever she was dealing with, I knew she was doing this to protect me, or herself. I had to let her work through it until she needed me.

“It’s not well known, but this used to be one of the ancient’s laboratories,” Dokun said, his voice echoing between the far-off ceiling and metal walls.

“What were they studying here?” I asked, my curiosity piqued enough to risk the question.

He glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “Space flight.”

Strips of light in the wall illuminated our path deeper into the facility. The hall came to several intersections marked with writing I didn’t recognize—making me miss Mae’s presence even more—but we continued forward.

“We’ve all heard stories of the ancients leaving Jigu behind, but is it true?” Hana asked.

Dokun bobbed his head from side to side. “There’s truth in many tales. We’re still deciphering messages left by the ones before us. It’s been so long that many of them have degraded past the point of recovery, so it’s difficult to tell.”

“Why haven’t you shared any of this?” I asked, feeling outrage at his secrecy. Messages from the ancient ones! Such an important discovery should’ve been shared with the world.

Dokun paused and turned to face me. “The world is not ready for the knowledge they have to share.”

I scowled. “Who are you to make that assessment?”

“Jiyong,” Woong-ji said my name with a whipcrack in her voice and seized my arm.

Dokun grinned. “He’s a curious boy, just as I’d expect of a Yamamotto.”

The hairs on my arms prickled and a shiver went down my spine. To be called his nephew was one thing, but one of his own was something else. Mother had told me how the head of household controlled the family in Kokyu… did he think he owned me now?

Dokun turned back to the long hall, but didn’t move forward. He lifted one gold-glowing fist to the emptiness, then splayed his fingers wide. The gold munje fired out in a burst and drifted forward as if pulled by invisible gravity. His munje poured from his fingertips until the way forward was just a wall of gold.

Then, zips of blue ran through his magic like Mae’s thoughts moving through her disc. There was another audible beep in the affirmative, and a crack appeared in the gold before us. The gold munje faded, revealing a solid metal door. It split down the middle and opened to a grand room filled with light and machina.

“How?” Woong-ji asked, breathy.

I thought it had been some trick of ry, but when I peered around the edges of the door that appeared from nowhere, there was more hall. I stuck my hand past the edge door and felt the air. Hana released my hand and I stepped around the back of the door, seeing nothing but gold light. It was no trick I’d ever seen.

I flicked my fingers, sending a burst of golden munje sailing toward the back of the door. It disappeared into the mass of twisting magic and a second later, I felt a wealth of confusing and complicated data flowing through me. I directed that flow toward Mae’s disc and it slipped into her device, but she still refused my requests to speak. I moved on quickly, not wanting to seem suspicious.

Dokun beamed when I came back around front. “I could’ve opened the door from my office, or from the elevator, or from anywhere on this complex. The door to this room exists everywhere, and nowhere, and only I can open it. This is but a fraction of the power of the ancients—” he paused, resting his hand on my shoulder, and locking me in his gaze. “The world is not ready.”

“Of that we can be certain,” Woong-ji said with a nod. “May I inspect it?”

Dokun nodded. “Of course. Let me show the children inside for the rest of the wonders in store?”

Master looked to me with a wary wrinkle between her eyebrows.

Dokun’s grip tightened on my shoulder and he shook me gently. “I wouldn’t hurt them,” he said with a defensive chuckle.

Woong-ji sighed. “I must accompany the children at all times. Please, lead on.”

Dokun dipped his head. “Very well. Welcome to my sanctum.” He released his grip on my shoulder and stepped through the door. There was a golden haze between us, something like the barrier between a dream and reality. He turned back and beckoned for me to join him.

If only he could operate the door, there would be no chance of escape. This was stupid.

But the treasures he had on the other side…

I raked my gaze across the sleek, well maintained machina of the ancients—objects whose purpose I could never guess. Screens dotted with information all around the room, and at the center was a waist height table, glowing with shapeless blue light that twisted and morphed the more I looked at it.

“Well?” Dokun asked and my eyes snapped back to him.

I took a breath, but the words caught in my throat. If he could open a doorway from thin air, there was no telling what else he could do. What if he could pull Mae right out of her device? Her knowledge was dangerous, and I’d already seen it misused once.

Dokun’s patient smile turned sad. “I understand,” he said as he stepped back to our side. “You don’t know the whole truth. You’ve thought me some kind of monster for the past year and think once you step over this threshold I’ll have you trapped at my mercy.”

He chuckled, then placed his hand open in the air. The gold munje deconstructed the doorway node by node, little bits of it blinking out of existence at a time.

When the door was gone, he placed his hand on my shoulder again. “You’ve been trapped at my mercy since you entered Kokyu, and I’ve not harmed you, or tried to steal your machine spirit. Can’t you trust me?”

My heart pumped furiously, and I swallowed to wet my throat. “Trust is earned, and you’ve broken mine—all of ours. Where is my father? What happened last year?”

Dokun raised a brow at Woong-ji. “I see you tell them very little.”

“Knowledge is a privilege that must be earned, and they are just students,” she replied coolly.

I clenched my jaw shut for what felt like the hundredth time on this trip. How had I not earned the right to this knowledge? It was about my family, my life! Hana’s hand slipped back into mine, feeling cold against the heat of anger. I breathed through my frustration and cleared the thought for my mind. We had to stay unified if we were going to survive.

Dokun hummed, then looked to me. “If you ever want to know the whole truth, you know where I am.”

He lifted his hand and created another door. The first-floor lobby appeared on the other side. Bastion students were gathered at the couches, talking avidly about the trip while Sung-ki paced slowly. His face was still, but the tight grip he had on his belt told me he was one loud noise away from loosing his entire potion collection on this place.

Dokun stepped through the glowing opening, eliciting gasps of joy and wonder from the students. The sound of their amazement was muffled as if it were coming through a wall made of water. Dokun’s words were indistinguishable, but his tone was jovial. He raised his hands as if to say, “Surprise!” and the students clapped. To them, it was like watching real magic—but I knew something else was in play, here. When Mae came back online, we were going to analyze the secrets out of the data I’d collected.

Sung-ki’s wide eyes locked on me, then Woong-ji. My master stepped forward and passed through the portal unharmed, then nodded us forward. I stepped up to the rippling gateway and put my hand out. The hairs raised on my arms like they were being pulled forward. Then, I stepped through.

But not into the first-floor lobby.

I stepped into hazy forest, lit by moonlight. The scent of damp earth was faint, as if something half remembered, and the wind blew gently against my bare neck. I stopped and looked back to see Hana had disappeared, and so had the hall, and the portal. I was alone at the center of an unknown forest.

“You must let me go,” Kumiho’s voice warbled out and when I turned, a ghostly image of my father stood before me.

“The tests are too dangerous for you,” a voice, deep and clear, tickled my throat. It was Dokun’s voice. My hands moved of their own accord, tossing an object toward my father. He caught the distorted metal disc and turned it over in his palm.

That was the disc in my father’s pocket the night Busa-nan fell ill with Dokun’s malware. The disc that operated the signal that killed my people. My anger flared and the vision became fuzzy, as if a blizzard raged in front of my eyes. I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I wanted to see the rest.

My father looked up. “This would save her,” his words vacillated unnaturally, and I tried to calm myself further. I needed to see whatever this was through.

“She would never use munje again,” Dokun’s voice said sadly.

“But she could live,” he whispered, staring gravely at the disc in his hand.

The world around me popped like a soap bubble and the sound of the first-level atrium crashed down around me. I squinted and my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight reflecting off the glass walls.

“What’s wrong?” Hana asked.

I looked down at our joined hands, then leaned closer to her to whisper, “Did you see that?”

Her gaze snapped left, right, then back to me. “See what?”

The portal zipped shut with a fizzle of gold and Dokun accepted praise from the students. I turned to face Sung-ki, who wore a scowl on his face. He studied me for a brief second, then looked away with relief.

The cold earth scent had gone, along with the breeze, and nothing remained but the opaque memory of a conversation. Dokun turned, a natural looking smile on his face. We locked eyes and with a single raise of his brow, my world was thrown into chaos. What if Woong-ji had been telling the truth in the hall?

What if Dokun wasn’t behind everything, after all?