Chapter Twenty-Six Sunny #2
I swing the Shin’gwangdo in wild half arcs, only able to move my wrist, but I can’t reach the Amheuk’s serpentine arms at this angle.
I need to switch my grip to point the blade down so I can slice upward toward my underarm.
My vision swims with pain, and I take a huge gamble.
I throw my sword in the water, nudging it so it tips and rotates while it sinks.
With my blood pounding in my ears, I force myself to wait until the blade floats past my reach. Then, I shoot my hand out, as far as I can, and grab for the hilt. My fingertips graze the handle. So close. But the sword slips and starts to spin away.
I scream and strain against the tentacle on my right arm. I barely gain an inch, but it’s enough for me to snatch the hilt of the Shin’gwangdo, the blade pointing down.
Fuck, yeah.
I twist my wrist and slash the sword toward my armpit, hoping to cut the dark limb wrapped around my arm without hurting myself. I hack at it, but the water makes my movements sluggish. I have no choice but to keep going.
Then the tentacle slides limply off my arm, a furious roar vibrating through the water. With my sword arm free, I slash at the tentacles restraining the rest of me, scoring deep gashes into them. They finally drop away from me, and I kick toward the portal once more.
But the Amheuk’s wrath reverberates around me, and I feel its focus shifting more fully onto me.
I swim another yard, agonizingly slow with one arm out of commission.
Then, a dozen strands of darkness shoot out from all directions and mummify me from ankles to shoulders, trapping my arms—and my sword—to my sides.
I thrash against the Amheuk’s hold, panic overriding logic.
The violence of my movement dislodges the clothespin from my nose and snaps the string tied around my neck.
And the soil in the small pouch, my token to the Kingdom of Sky, spills into the water.
It might not have opened the portal, but at least there was a chance.
Now . . . I’m dead.
My lungs burn as my oxygen supply depletes, and everything turns hazy. I want to inhale, even if it means sucking in a lungful of water. But my Yeoiju hums at my heart’s center, reminding me that I am not alone.
I need your help, I speak to the nature around me.
I stop struggling and close my eyes, reaching out with my senses for the gi of nature. When I open my eyes again, only a pale-blue glow surrounds me. I don’t understand. Nature’s life force is so much more powerful than this.
What’s making it so faint? Is it the Amheuk?
Even though it is diminished, the gi of Water trickles into me until the sword of light glows against my thigh. And after what feels like an eternity, white light shines through the dark tentacles, disintegrating them into specks of black ash.
The Shin’gwangdo dims in my hand, and I quickly sheath it. There isn’t enough gi to light it again.
Air. I need air.
I swim toward the portal with the single intent of breathing. I don’t know what I expect to happen when I get there, but I’m getting there. My head spins, and black edges into my vision, but I keep jackknifing my legs. The portal shimmers like a mirage in the water.
I’m so close.
But the Amheuk rises behind me like a gargantuan whale, and it swallows the bottom half of my body. Anguish twists through me until I can’t feel my legs anymore. I can’t hold my breath anymore. I can’t . . . fight anymore.
I’m sorry, Ethan. I love you.
My last gulp of air spurts out of me, bubbling in the water, and my eyes slide closed. But two strong hands grab me by my armpits and haul me toward the portal. Two disembodied hands. I must be hallucinating.
Then I land on my back with a thump—Is this a wooden floor?—and the shock has me dragging in a heaving breath. Shit. But instead of the rush of salt water I expect, I breathe in sweet, sweet air.
Before I can sigh in relief, I flip onto my stomach and vomit a gallon of water, then I proceed to cough up my lungs.
“Stop that ruckus,” a grumpy voice mutters, while a warm hand pats my back.
I inhale slowly through my nose to stifle my coughs before I crack a rib. Then I push my torso off the floor with one arm and struggle to my knees. The same hands—They were real—help me sit up, then lean my back against the wooden pillar.
“What in the world is going on?” Keeper Bae, the owner of the two lifesaving hands, barks at me. “What was that beast in the water? And why didn’t one of the Kingdom of Water’s keepers open the portal for you?”
I hold up a finger, asking for a minute, then scoot a little away from the pillar. I take a deep breath, then ram my left arm and shoulder against the pillar. My shoulder slides back into the socket with a pop. I grit my teeth against the pain, stars sparking behind my eyes.
When I can see straight again, I finally face the keeper.
Gods, do I have to say this again?
I almost wish I had another dislocated shoulder to reset. Anything to stave off the bomb I have to drop. But Keeper Bae—who just saved my ass—deserves an answer. I sigh past my raw throat.
“The Kingdom of Water lost both of its portal keepers to the Amheuk, Keeper Bae. The eternal darkness has breached the Realm of Four Kingdoms.” No matter how many times I say it, the reality of the nightmare still jars me.
And the stunned keeper falls on his ass, his mouth opening and closing.
“It’s attacking the Kingdom of Water, and their dome won’t hold for much longer,” I soldier on. “You have to allow their people to come through the portal. The Kingdom of Sky has to grant them asylum.”
“Of course,” Keeper Bae says without hesitation, making me do a double take. “While I don’t have the authority to grant them asylum, I can at least help them through.”
“You don’t mind that they don’t have proper documentation?” I gape at him.
“Do I look like a monster to you?” Keeper Bae scowls at me. “People’s lives are at stake. Who cares about documents at a time like this?”
“I’m going to regret saying this”—I scowl right back at him—“but I like you.”
The keeper blinks, then bites his cheeks. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s holding back a smile. I tuck my chin to my chest to hide my own smile. For fuck’s sake. With a sharp shake of my head, I clamber to my feet.
Keeper Bae rises with me, his arms loose at his sides. But I have a feeling those lifesaving hands are ready to catch me at the first sign of unsteadiness.
“I have to go back,” I pant, winded from just getting off the floor.
“Go back?” He yells directly in my face, but I let it go, because now I know he’s a softy deep down. “Back there with that thing trying to swallow you whole? That was the Amheuk, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” I answer truthfully.
“And you want to go back to that?” He has an impressive falsetto.
“Yes.” Another honest answer. I’ll fight off the grabby darkness again—I’ll do it a thousand times over—for a chance to hear Ethan’s voice.
We might never see each other again. I want this last moment with him.
“Please. I have to get back. A-and you must need help keeping the portal open long enough to evacuate an entire kingdom, right? I-I can help with that from the other side. Just tell me what to do.”
Without answering, Keeper Bae stomps down the wooden steps of the pavilion and walks over to the pond next to it. He kneels at the edge of the pond and sinks both hands into the water. Then he whisper screams at the poor pond in a seemingly endless tirade.
I slide down the pillar and wait as the keeper prepares the token to open the portal for the Kingdom of Water—and hopefully, my round-trip token as well.
I run my hands down my sides and the tops of my outstretched legs. I don’t have a soggy spot on me. The Queen of Water’s magic is still holding strong. It looks like I won’t freeze to death in the water.
Unfortunately, I might drown since I lost the King of Underworld’s clothespin. I shrug. I’ll deal with that when I get there.
Besides, it’s easier to survive without air than without Ethan.