Chapter 13
Turned out Grace didn’t have to worry about her dad.
When they pulled into the drive, his car wasn’t there.
Still, Grace ushered Hae into the house, ignoring his protests as she pushed him to walk faster. She didn’t want her dad pulling up to witness her sneaking a guy in. She was pretty sure the excuse of he’s a god who’s been following me around would not fly.
She called to the dog, opening the French doors to the backyard, grateful it was completely fenced in. He bounded out to happily roll in the grass.
“So, I’ve got a few questions.” She turned around, only to collide with Hae.
“Jesus!” she blurted out, jumping back again. “We really need to talk about respecting personal space.”
“You bumped into me,” Hae pointed out.
“Yeah, but there’s a bubble.” She vaguely waved her arms in a circle to indicate the barrier.
“Bubble of what?”
“Nothing, never mind.” She gave up trying to explain. “So.” She suddenly felt unsure of herself now that they were all alone in her house. “Uh, do you want something to eat?”
“I don’t get hungry.” Hae picked up an orange from the bowl on the island, testing the weight in his hands.
“Never?”
He shrugged as he tossed the orange above his head and caught it deftly. “I’m a god,” he said, as if that was explanation enough.
She snatched the orange when he threw it again and set it back in the bowl. “So, what do you actually want from me?”
“That’s the thing. I’m not exactly sure.” He wandered into the family room, leaning in to study the photos on the mantel. “Is this you?”
“Yeah, when I was a kid.” She plucked the frame out of his hand.
“Cute,” he mused as he walked across the room to the upright piano. It had sat unplayed since Grace quit in sixth grade.
“Can you explain the whole ‘finding me’ thing again?” Grace asked, trying to stop him from getting off track.
He lifted the piano lid, touching one of the low keys. “All I know is that every time I try to find my way home, I find you instead. It is like your…existence is interfering with my instincts.”
“So I’m assuming home isn’t really somewhere you can find on a map?”
“No.” Hae laughed. “Home is the celestial realm. The place my father ruled over.”
“And how did you used to get there?”
“I’d ride my chariot, obviously.”
“Yes, of course, your chariot,” Grace said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. “How silly of me to forget that.”
Hae’s fingers brushed over the piano keys, and Grace found herself distracted by the movement. He really had beautiful hands. Of course he did—she’d drawn them that way. In fact, he was a concert pianist in her webcomic. Though that was just fiction.
As if to prove her wrong, his hands started moving over the keys, building a beautiful, sweeping melody. His eyes were closed, his body swaying to the rhythm, like a human metronome. It was mesmerizing as the song swelled to a crescendo.
“How’d you do that?” Grace asked as the last note faded.
“It must just come naturally to me, since I’m a god.”
“Was playing musical instruments one of your powers before?” Grace asked.
“No, but things feel different since I’ve been back.”
Grace hummed low in her throat. It seemed oddly coincidental. First he looked exactly like her comic hero, and now he shared a very specific modern skill.
“So, do you know where my chariot is?”
Grace blinked at the sudden question. “What?”
“You were asking about how I used to get home. Does that mean you know where my chariot is? Or my sword? That could help as well, it always did enhance my abilities.”
“Oh, no. Sorry.”
“Ah, disappointing.”
The word made her throat constrict. She hated disappointing people. Clearing her throat, she asked, “How did you get here?”
“You drove me, remember?”
“No, I mean to this world. Were you always here? Were you just wandering the earth this whole time?”
“No, the gods haven’t been around for centuries. Not since mortals stopped believing in us.”
“Wait, really?” Grace asked. “So, not believing in you made you disappear?”
“Belief is a powerful thing. And so is the loss of it.”
His words pinged a vague memory, like she’d heard something similar before.
“So, if you weren’t here all this time, where were you?”
“Away,” Hae said vaguely.
“Away where?”
“Is that really important?” Hae asked.
“If we want to figure out how to help you get home, then it probably helps to know where you were before you appeared again.”
Hae walked to the French doors, watching Haechi frolic in the grass beside the pool deck. “I can’t talk about it.”
Grace could just make out his reflection in the glass, his expression pinched. “Can’t? Or don’t want to?”
“You could never understand. What it’s like to be discarded.” His low voice broke on the words.
He was right: She could never understand that. But she knew what it felt like to be alone. She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, meaning to offer comfort.
But at her touch, he moved away. “I need some air.”
He burst out of the house without another word. The door making her jump as it slammed behind him.
She almost let him go. Grace knew what it was like having emotions balloon too big. Not wanting anyone to witness them. But she couldn’t let him wander out of her backyard. What if he accidentally brought a garden gnome back to life in front of her neighbors? So she hurried after him.
She was relieved to see Hae just standing at the edge of the pool, staring down at his watery reflection.
Haechi gave a happy bark when he saw her, trotting over to lay a giant branch at her feet.
For the life of her, Grace had no idea where he’d found it.
She picked it up and lobbed it, barely getting any distance, as the branch was as long as her arm.
Hae still hadn’t moved, so she crossed the deck to join him by the pool. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your apology,” he said, his tone cold enough to make her feel the sting of rejection.
She noticed a dead bug floating on the surface of the water and had to resist the urge to grab the net and fish it out. Now wasn’t the time for pool maintenance.
Grace knew it was mostly her mind looking for a convenient distraction from the more complicated task of dealing with Hae.
“Maybe I’m not the one who’s supposed to help you,” she ventured. “Maybe you were wrong.”
Hae finally looked over at her. “No, I can’t be. I sense something in you.”
“But what does that mean? You still haven’t told me.” She felt her chest starting to constrict. Not the same as one of her anxiety attacks, but a discomfort that made her want to press her hand against her heart to release the tension.
Haechi returned, dropping the branch at her feet, but she ignored it this time.
Hae turned to her now. “All I can tell you is that being with you right now…It feels right.”
The way he said it, the confidence in his tone. How he watched her through his long lashes, how his eyes seemed to glint. It made shivers race across her skin.
Haechi barked, placing a paw on her leg as if to remind her she was supposed to play with him.
“Okay, boy, I hear you,” she said, leaning down to pick up the stick.
“Let me,” Hae started to say.
But Grace already had it, and in a moment of horribly perfect timing she stood with the stick just as he bent down for it. The end of the stick met the side of his head with a heavy thwack.
Hae stumbled back, eyes wide with pain, and stepped right over the edge of the pool. With a shout of surprise, he teetered. Grace caught his hand, but his momentum was too great. And instead of Grace pulling him back, he yanked them both into the pool with a giant splash.
She hit the cold water hard as a belly flop. It slapped like ice against her skin before she sank.
Grace had been taught to swim at a young age. But when she tried to paddle to the surface, it felt like fighting against a thick soup instead of clear pool water.
It churned and sloshed around her. Instead of the wavering surface of the pool, she saw flashes of white rapids. So thunderous, she felt like she was being swallowed by a waterfall.
The harder she fought, the more she felt sucked down. Like an undertow was pulling her away from the surface. And under the thundering noise she heard deep menacing laughter.