BA3 - Chapter 2

I stood on the patio of my family’s kingdom apartment, overlooking the city. Orange and pink clouds from the setting sun drifted lazily overhead and the call of distant sea birds soothed my anxious mind. The Silence Pact I made with Min-hwan at the end of last year prevented me from telling my family about the true dangers of the exchange program, but my mother knew.

She had told me all about Dokun and Hiro Kumiho, the man who’d been my father. They’d been working together for years, and I knew from seeing Hiro how hard those years had been. His green irises and wrinkled face appeared in my mind’s eye. There were streaks of white in his hair and deep bags under his eyes. He’d looked at least ten years older than he should’ve. What had happened to him?

The patio door slid open behind me and I turned to see Eun-bi, a smile gracing her round face. She was looking more and more like our mother every day. Eun-bi crossed her arms and leaned against the metal railing like me. We looked out on the city together in peaceful quiet. The orange and pinks in the sky turned to purple.

I sighed. “Are you excited for the school year to start?”

Eun-bi hummed acknowledgement. “Are you excited for me to pester you every day until you leave?”

I chuckled. “Of course. I’ll help you with whatever you want after classes.”

“Let me sit with you at lunch?” She asked, hopeful.

I quirked an eyebrow. Eun-bi had always been outgoing. It was easy for her to make friends everywhere she went, and she exuded confidence. This shirking of her normal self wasn’t so puzzling, though. The kingdom was a lot different from Namnak.

I wrapped my arm around her. “Sometimes. But I don’t want you getting used to it. There are going to be a lot of people your age at Bastion—four-hundred and ninety-nine of them to be exact. You’ll meet people from outer-cities, too. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

She blew a raspberry. “I’m not afraid. I just don’t think the other first-years are going to be as interesting as your friends.”

“You’d be surprised,” Mae said through the small speaker on my chest. “Jiyong and Cho can be so boring.” Mae mimicked my and then Cho’s voice, “What’s Hana thinking about right now? How many leaves is too much for a pot of tea?”

Eun-bi laughed. “Yeah, but you’ll be there Mae.”

“Hardly,” Mae said with a sigh. “I only get to come out once in a while, and never at meals—too many eyes and ears. Though, I have a feeling my secrecy is hanging on by a thread, so perhaps that will change soon.”

“Don’t go jinxing us,” I warned her. “We don’t need every Historian poking and prodding me to death, or mercenaries trying to rip you out of my still beating chest.”

Eun-bi chuckled, but forehead was creased with worry.

“What is it?” I asked, turning to face her.

The smile disappeared from her lips. “Don’t go.”

I scowled. “On the exchange trip?”

She nodded, her eyes misty.

“What are you worried about?” I asked, amping up my brotherly charm.

“I’m not stupid, Jiyong,” she said with annoyance.

I laughed it off. “You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“So stop acting like nothing’s going on. The exchange students who helped spread that poison at Bastion came from Kokyu, and where you’re going. You’ve been quiet about it all summer, and when it does get brought up, you look like someone caved your skull in with a hammer. You’ve been leaving early every morning and not coming back until sunset, and you’re not always in your workshop—"

“Okay, stop.” I cut her off, pinching my nose bridge with frustration. The pact made it painful to say anything about our mission, Dokun, or the other Mae who programmed the malware. There was hardly anything I could say, and certainly nothing that would make Eun-bi feel better.

“You’ve always been able to tell me everything,” Eun-bi murmured as she turned back to the darkening sky.

“I have to go. It’s more important than what happened earlier this year.”

Eun-bi nodded. “But you won’t tell me about it.”

“He can’t,” Mae rescued me from Eun-bi’s anger. “And neither can I. We’ve sworn ourselves to silence in a binding spell that causes Jiyong great pain.”

Eun-bi snorted, tightening her crossed arms.

I grabbed her shoulder and turned her to me. “I haven’t hidden anything from you since last year. I know you’re more grown up than the other kids your age, tk_hell, even me when I was your age,”

“Even now,” she said, rolling her eyes.

I sighed. Her teenage arrogance was getting on my nerves, but I had been just like that, too. “I can’t tell you about this, Eun-bi. It would break my mind. But even if I could, I wouldn’t.”

The mist returned to her eyes and she furrowed her brow in anger.

“If you knew what—”pain stabbed from over my left eyes to the back of my skull. I hadn’t even said anything! I growled and went on as the pain subsided. “Someone could hurt you to find out the truth. It’s better if you know nothing.”

Her frown deepened, lips quivering. “But how can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on?”

I pulled her into a hug, rubbing big circles on her back as she sobbed silently. Daegon pressed his nose against the glass patio door, then crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out. Mini was quick to mimic the playful gesture. I waved him off with a stern glare, and he grabbed Mini’s hand before retreating to the table.

“Are you going to die?” Eun-bi asked, her voice tiny as a cricket chirp.

“I hope not,” I whispered back.

Her whole body shook from withheld sobs. “I don’t want to lose my hyeong.”

I hushed her, rocking her side to side. Mother sneakily looked at us from the corner of her eye as she passed the door. She stopped at the table to help Mini with some drawing she was working on, then looked up to me as she mouthed, “Okay?” I gave her a gentle nod.

“I don’t want to lose you guys, either. That’s why I have to go—”hot agony rang from ear to ear. I clenched my jaw and closed my eyes against it, as if it would help. I breathed slowly through my nose until the pain finally subsided.

When I opened my eyes again, Eun-bi had pulled away. She looked me over with worry, then sighed. “Stop hurting yourself, for Jigu’s sake.”

“You’re the one who won’t let me,” I said with a smirk, but the pain was evident in my strained voice.

The patio door slid open and Suyi stepped out with two steaming mugs. “Tonic time,” she said with a smile, then she looked to Eun-bi. “Did you get it out of him?”

My eyes narrowed on my oldest sister and I crossed my arms. “Were the tears even real?”

Eun-bi’s mouth dropped open, appalled. “Yes, of course! And no, I didn’t,” she said as she took the steaming cup from Suyi.

“Shame,” Suyi said with a sigh and handed me my cup. “I guess we’ll just have to find out when strange men show up at the apartment.”

That was low.

“No one is going to be showing up here, I made sure of that.” I took a sip of the bitter tonic. I was getting accustomed to the flavor, though I still wouldn’t call it pleasant. I downed the drink and went on. “Ryni has the sharpest eyes in the business, and she’s got her eyes on the doors all the time. There’s Gon-ju, Sam, and Babi too. Someone will always be watching over you and this home.”

“And who’s going to watch over you?” Suyi asked.

“Hana will be with me, so will Cho and Yuri. There’ll be several instructors and sixteen other exchange students going, too. Nothing bad will happen to us.”

Suyi nodded at Eun-bi. “Hana, Cho, and Yuri know too. Maybe we could question them?”

I growled in frustration and opened the patio door. “You two are the worst.”

“Love you, Brother!” Eun-bi said with a bright smile and the two girls giggled.

I closed the door on them with a playful sneer.

“Hyeong, look!” Mini said as she turned her paper to me.

My heart thudded in my chest as I looked on the chilling scene from a few months ago. It was me, floating in the blackened garden, surrounded by the green life-force munje of everything I’d destroyed.

I swallowed hard and took a gasping breath. “That’s really good miss Minjee.”

“Thanks,” she said with a smile, and returned the page to the table to finish coloring.

Mini was struggling to adjust to kingdom life, and she often liked to draw our old farm. Mother looked up at me with compassion in her eyes. Sorry, that look said. She knew how much it hurt me to think of what I’d done… the crime I’d committed against Jigu.

I waved the painful memory away and moved to the kitchen to clean up. The ruined house flashed in my mind as I sponged the bowls clean.

“Stop it,” Mae whispered. “There’s no more that can be done now than what Se-hun is already doing.”

Se-hun, my best friend from Primary, promised to have the old farm back better than ever before the end of next year, and I believed him. He’d been promoted at the arborum and was getting good lumber at a discount. I had no doubt the house would be twice as large as when we’d lived in it, with secret rooms and space for everyone, not that we’d be back any time soon.

Mother knew moving back to the farm wouldn’t be an option until the problem was handled. Mother also knew that problem couldn’t be handled unless I went to Kokyu. She was scared, but hadn’t fought for me to stay. That alone warmed my heart. She believed in me.

“Us,” Mae said in my mind.

‘Right,’I thought with a smirk. I swirled en munje between my fingers and rinsed the dished clean. In one swift movement, I pulled all the water off them and dropped it into the sink, then returned the clean, dry dishes to their cabinets.

“I can’t believe you and Eun-bi will be going to Bastion tomorrow,” Mother said from the doorway. “I’m so proud of you both.” Tears shimmered in her eyes and she smiled.

“Thank you, eomma.” I wrapped her in a hug and she whimpered gently. So many tears today. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered above her head.

“I know. You’ve gotten so strong… but what if it’s not okay? I know who you will face if things take a turn for the worst.” She held me at arm’s length. “What will we do without you?”

“Well, Woong-ji will need a new apprentice, and the twins are getting a little too good at my job,” I smiled sarcastically, and Mother put her hands on her hips.

“This is serious,” she said in a hushed voice.

My expression went blank. “I’m being serious. You don’t need me anymore. Eun-bi and Suyi will have good apprenticeships in no time at all, and the twins are right behind them. We’ve saved a small fortune compared to what we’ve survived on for years, and even with no munje, there are opportunities for you to work in the kingdom. Woong-ji and her staff are watching over you. You’ll never be in danger.”

“You have it all planned out, do you?” she asked, devastation thick in her words.

I sighed. “I’m planning on coming back, but if I can’t… there had to be another way forward for you and my brothers and sisters.”

She shook her head. “You’re always scheming.”

I smirked again. “And I almost always get what I want.”

“You blew up the farm on purpose then?” she asked, catching me in my arrogance.

My shoulders slumped and I sighed. “Of course not.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. “I know. But I really frustrated you, didn’t I.”

“So that’s where they get it from,” I murmured with a chuckle.

We turned from the kitchen and walked to the table where Minjee was still coloring.

“Where who get what from?” Mother asked with pointed interest.

“Eun-bi and Suyi. They’ll be excellent interrogators one day.”

Mother laughed out loud, prompting a giggle from Daegon and Minjee—though I was sure the joke was beyond them. I laughed with them, sustaining the joy a moment longer.

It was good to hear her laugh like that. It had been so long. Too long. And I wasn’t going to give it up so easily now that we had happiness. We couldn’t fail in Kokyu. I could die if it meant that Dokun couldn’t enact his terrible plot against them and the thousands of families in Busa-nan.

This was too precious to lose.