Chapter Forty-Three Sunny
Chapter Forty-Three
Sunny
I drop to my knees, tugging frantically on Ethan’s sleeve.
Even after absorbing his mother’s memories to learn the ways of the Shingae, he still lacks the healthy dose of fear and respect the rest of us bear toward the gods.
At my continued urging, he places one knee on the ground, then the next, but he does not bow his head.
“The King Foretold, I presume.” Lord Yeomla directs a mildly interested gaze toward Ethan. “I suppose it is useful for the long-awaited king to have backbone.”
The god flicks his fingers in the air, as though chasing away a fruit fly, and Ethan falls to his hands with a grunt. His neck muscles straining, Ethan struggles to raise his head far enough to glare at Yeomla.
“And strong too.” The god of Underworld purses his lips with reluctant respect. “You are rather impressive, but I must teach you some manners.”
Ethan growls, but I cover his hand with mine and whisper, “This is not a fight you can win.”
“Yes, listen to your . . .” Lord Yeomla pauses to consider me. “She is so many things to you, isn’t she? Your friend, your fated love, your queen, your . . . ruination.”
“Enough.” I glare at the god, forgetting my own advice. “We are not here to play your games.”
“No.” He forces my head back down by crooking his pinky. “I suppose you are not.”
“Lord Yeomla,” Gyun intercedes. “The Realm of Four Kingdoms is in great peril. The Amheuk—”
“The one thing I do not understand is . . .” the god of Underworld interrupts, tapping his chin with a long, elegant finger.
“How did the Amheuk breach the Realm of Four Kingdoms? No dark magic, including the eternal darkness, could have withstood the Gray Void. We fueled its magic with the han of the stranded—a force that grows even more powerful through suffering.”
“We?” I jerk my head up, the Yeoiju flaring in my chest. “You had a part in entrapping those countless stranded souls in there?”
Yeomla’s eyes widen with surprise, either over the glimpse of my power or over my insolence. Then, for the first time since his appearance, a hint of solemnity infuses the god’s expression.
“We four gods do not have the luxury of playing the hero,” he says. “It is our duty to protect the realms, and the Gray Void was the only way to stop the return of the Amheuk.”
“At the expense of all those souls?” I persist. There must have been another way.
“We did what we had to do.” He motions for us to rise, and our bodies obey before our minds can catch up. “Which brings me back to my question, how did our foolproof plan fail?”
“I destroyed the Gray Void.” Satisfaction flashes through me at the shock on Yeomla’s mind-bogglingly perfect face.
“You destroyed the only defense against the Amheuk?” He narrows his eyes on me, and terror floods my veins. “And what? You came here to ask for my help? To fix your mistake?”
“It was not a mistake,” I declare, even though I’m far from certain I mean that.
If I had known my survival meant the destruction of the Gray Void, would I have chosen to die? Would I have left the stranded imprisoned in their endless suffering?
I’ll never know.
But what is done is done. The past cannot be changed. I can only move forward.
“Lord Yeomla.” I aim for a more respectful tone. “We do need your help.”
“I already did everything I can to help.” Disdain twists his beautiful lips.
“Is it not your duty still to protect the realms?” Ethan steps closer to me, laying a protective hand on my back.
“There is nothing more I can do.” The god of Underworld shrugs, turning up his nose. I am sorely tempted to break that pretty nose.
“Lord Yeomla.” Gyun bows with due deference, then straightens to his full, considerable height and breadth. “We know you can do more.”
“Do you, now? Let me rephrase my answer,” Yeomla drawls. “There is nothing more I am willing to do.”
“But are we not your people?” Hailey blurts. “How can you be so selfish?”
“I am a god.” His voice thunders, making the ground shake beneath us. “I can be whatever I want, my pretty saja.”
“Do not speak to her that way,” the Judge of Tenth Hell warns in a dangerously soft voice.
“Or what?” Yeomla cocks his head. “I grow tired of this nonsense.”
“We are not asking you to fight with us.” I rush to explain before he disappears to take another century-long nap. “We only need a part of your gi—”
“A part of my gi?” The god scoffs, something like fear flickering in his expression. “You do not know what you ask. Now, be gone.”
“I’m not going—” My objection gets lodged in my throat as I’m sucked in through a straw. Or at least, it feels that way. Then, before I can scream, I’m spat back out.
“Wh-what happened?” I stumble, and Ethan catches me by the elbow.
Even when I regain my balance, he doesn’t let go. Instead, he slides his palm down my arm and laces our fingers together. And I need the reassuring warmth of his touch because . . . we are in a barren desert, made bleaker by the nearly colorless world surrounding us.
Shit.
The god of Underworld didn’t disappear. He disappeared us.
“I have never felt so ashamed to be a being of Underworld,” Hailey huffs. “Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I nod. “Where the hell are we anyway? Which kingdom has a desert?”
“We are not in a desert,” Gyun answers. “We are in the Kingdom of Water.”
“Where?” Ethan spins in a circle. “There isn’t a drop of water here, much less a kingdom of it.”
“That river in the Kingdom of Underworld was bone dry as well,” Hailey murmurs, pursing her lips.
“Maybe Yongwang, the god of Water, is using purgatory’s water as his blanky,” I joke.
“Something like that.” Gyun walks out to the cracked earth that used to be the ocean. “I believe Lord Yongwang went to sleep in his dragon form, in the only body of water left in purgatory.”
“What body of water?” I ask.
“You will see,” he says in a deep voice.
I scowl at his enigmatic back as we follow the Judge of Tenth Hell out to the dry ocean and trek on for what feels like hours. Our landscape changes back and forth between the four kingdoms, but we unfailingly end up back here, with nothing but the salted earth as far as the eye can see.
“Are we there yet?” I whine for the eleventh time.
Gyun mutters unintelligibly under his breath, and Hailey giggles at his side.
“Are you getting tired?” Ethan says close to my ear. “I can carry you.”
“We should’ve brought a palanquin,” I grumble crossly, then I blush like a beet, recalling a particular palanquin ride.
With a knowing grin, Ethan runs his hand down my back and slides his thumb beneath the hem of my shirt. “I can always go for a palanquin ride.”
I lose my chance at a sexy comeback when his thumb finds the shallow valley dissecting my back, drawing lazy circles right above the waist of my jeans. A shiver runs through me, and his eyes darken.
Distracted by the desire singing between us, we walk straight into a wall of . . . water. We stumble back before steadying each other. Then our gazes trace the length of the dark-blue wall from the bottom to the top, until it disappears into the sky.
“Holy Moses.” I glance down at myself, expecting to find my clothes soaking wet. But I don’t have a single drop of water on me.
My gaze returns to the wall in front of us. Its surface isn’t smooth like glass but churns tumultuously. It is a living, breathing vertical ocean. A shaky breath leaks out of me. I’m terrified the unforgiving sea might swallow us whole if we so much as blink wrong.
But does my Ethan blink wrong? Nooo. He just reaches out and fucking touches the wall of water.
“Why the hell would you do that?” I slap his hand away.
“I . . .”
Before he can defend himself, the ocean comes crashing down from the sky with a furious roar.