Chapter Twelve #3
Then the floor tiles disintegrated, and I dropped into the void.
Instantly, my whole body went numb. My mouth tasted like static, my vision blurry and monochrome. Below me, a vast canyon of nothingness yawned open like a stark white sea. Wind roared in my ears, tearing my hair in front of me, which I could see was slowly turning white.
A hand closed around my wrist, halting my fall.
Yejun was perched on the edge of the hole in the bathroom floor, holding me up. Blue light sparked between our skin, his warmth spreading through me. His eyes were wide, a screaming wind whipping his hair around his face.
“We have to go!” he shouted, sending a pulse of magic toward me.
I tried to move my hand toward the box of time magic in my pocket, but everything had gone numb.
“I can’t move!” I said.
“Try!” Yejun said, looking around desperately.
The wind tore out my ponytail holder, more of my hair turning silver as it blew in front of my face.
My feet were completely numb now, like they weren’t there at all.
What would happen if I was sucked into a paradox?
Would it be just like being erased? Or would the timeline chew me up and spit me out in spaghetti strands?
Hana, I thought desperately. You said you’d protect me.
Warmth surged through my hand, brighter than before. My hair blew out of my line of vision, and there was Yejun, forcing more time magic into me.
“The descendants will be able to track you!” I said, shaking my head. Wasn’t that the whole point of working together? Past a certain threshold, he would light up like a Christmas tree on the agency’s radar.
The wind spiraled even louder around us.
The only light I could see anymore was Yejun’s eyes, searing blue from time magic.
The only thing I could feel was his claws hooked into my wrist, tethering me to him, blood running down my forearm.
He closed his eyes, whispering something to himself, and then a wave of time magic surged into my bloodstream.
It felt like Yejun had breathed me into his soul.
His heart unfolded and lush green mountains filled the horizon, stark white skies blooming overhead.
He was a thousand quiet summer mornings and warm citron tea, the scent of white silk drying on a line beneath the afternoon sun, soft grass and forbidden hope.
But the sun fell below the horizon, shadows suffocating the bright sky.
There was that bone-deep ache of sadness that I’d glimpsed before, but this time it screamed within the tight cage of my bones.
Yejun’s human face could pretend to be confident and careless, but the map of his soul whispered the truth to me.
The ground turned to glass between my feet, broken shards biting into my soles and plummeting into an abyss of hungry darkness. Gray clouds blurred my vision, choking me with freezing water, and I didn’t realize until it was too late that I was tumbling into the empty sky.
And there, beyond the clouds, was … me.
There I was, asleep in a library on Yejun’s shoulder as he read a book by warm lamplight. It was a moment that had never happened, but somehow I could feel the lamp’s gentle glow, the scent of old paper, the softness of the blanket he draped over my shoulders.
And there I was again, sipping coffee across from Yejun at a café, walking beside him along the stream, pressed close to him in a packed subway car.
They were moments I’d never lived, days that had never happened, yet each one felt glass-sharp in its vividness.
Were these Yejun’s dreams? The wishes he hid deep inside his heart?
Somehow, I had a home within Yejun’s soul.
I stepped into myself, no longer watching from above but beside him in a whispering field of silver grass beneath a white sky.
Mina, his soul said as he tucked my hair behind my ear, his touch as gentle as the silken grass swaying around us.
I had the name of a spy and a liar, but from Yejun’s lips, it sounded bright and true.
I moved closer, letting him pull me in by my waist as he leaned over me and blocked the soft edge of the sun …
I crashed onto my side on concrete.
A car horn blared at me and I flinched at the sound, pushing myself up on my elbows.
I was back in Eungam—I recognized the intersection near the fruit stands, the café on the corner.
The sudden brightness of the streetlights and solidness of the ground was so jarring that I wondered if I’d actually been hit by the car.
But all my limbs were still there—tangled with Yejun’s, in fact—and there was no pain, just a searing numbness like my whole body had fallen asleep.
Yejun scrambled to his feet and looked around.
“Yejun,” I said, “did you actually—”
“I have to go!” he said, turning off and running.
I tried to follow him, but the driver of the car stepped out and stood in front of me. “I didn’t hit you did I?” he said. A small crowd had gathered at the scene, so I hurried to my feet, brushing off my shirt.
“I’m fine,” I said, and promptly stumbled against the side of the car because my legs were so numb.
“Really, I’m fine,” I said, hurrying away before anyone could call an ambulance.
I melted into the crowd on the main road, slowly reminding myself of the feeling of shoes on my feet, sidewalk beneath me, one step at a time.
After about a block, I was starting to feel normal again.
I looked back at the street where Yejun had run away, as if I could conjure him through sheer willpower. I thought of my own face carved into his sky, the scenes of us together that lived only in his heart.
I didn’t know what to make of it. Yejun had never said anything out loud that suggested these were his dreams, and dreams that stayed locked in your heart didn’t matter. Maybe our time magic tangling together had branded me into his soul whether he liked it or not.
I imagined the descendants catching him, throwing him to the ground and turning him to ash, all because he’d taken a risk to save me. The thought of Hong Gildong sinking his claws into Yejun made me want to burn headquarters to the ground.
But I knew that if I wanted Yejun to be safe, I had to keep my distance for now.
Drawing more attention to him would be dangerous.
Even though my bones screamed for me to turn around and follow him, I forced myself to keep walking home.
Yejun was used to being a rogue, he was good at hiding and planning and surviving.
I would have to trust that he would be okay.