Miyoung asked, ignoring Junu’s snarl as she stepped into the foyer. And suddenly, the ghosts were gone. She spun around, searching for them. “Wait, what’s going on?”
“Okay, you’re going to have to ask a full question. These half inquiries are not making any sense.” Junu still held the door open as if hoping she’d change her mind and leave.
“What was that thing you sold me?” Miyoung asked.
“A talisman,” Junu said slowly, as if she were a child.
“I know that. What does it do?”
“Did you use it?”
“Maybe,” Miyoung said vaguely, unsure if she wanted to share too much information with the dokkaebi.
“You did. And now you’re seeing ghosts. And you’re wondering why they haven’t followed you into my home.”
Miyoung didn’t reply.
“It’s this.” Junu pointed to a golden talisman hanging by his door. “It’s a protection of sorts against unsavory things. I thought it was broken since you’re here.”
“Har-har.” Miyoung rolled her eyes. Her nerves were frayed from a week living with the faces of her victims, following her no matter where she hid. She pulled out her wallet and her fingers trembled. She gripped them together until they stopped. “How much?”
“For the joke? Free.” Junu gave her a saucy wink.
“The talisman.” She refused to react to how he’d purposefully misunderstood her. “How much for it?”
Without waiting for an answer, Miyoung pulled out all the cash in her wallet. Junu eyed the money, but didn’t take it.
“Why did you need the first talisman?”
She glared at him, refusing to answer.
“If you tell me, I’ll give you this one.” Junu pointed to the yellow strip of paper fluttering in the wind.
“I lost something. I needed to put it back where it belongs and Nara said that talisman would open my energy to it.”
“Unless what you lost was ghosts, I don’t think your shaman was telling you the full truth.”
Miyoung hated that Junu spoke her own suspicions aloud. “Is that really all it can do? Open my mind to seeing ghosts? Nothing else?”
“Well, all things can be . . . shifted,” Junu mused. “But it’s far too dangerous to try such a thing without the proper skill and direction.”
Miyoung sighed. She’d been a fool to think she had a handle on things. And now she was paying the price.
“What could a gumiho lose that would cause her to risk such a thing?” Junu asked as he studied her.
“It’s none of your business.”
“You can’t blame me for being curious.”
“I didn’t come here for a game of twenty questions. I came here for that talisman.”
Junu held up a hand, and it took all of her control not to snap off one of his fingers. His eyes widened with understanding. “How does a gumiho lose her yeowu guseul?”
Miyoung shouldn’t have been surprised he guessed so quickly. She’d already figured out this dokkaebi was smarter than an average goblin, and twice as annoying.
“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out how a dokkaebi loses his left hand.”
Junu lifted the appendage in question in surrender. Then pulled down the yellow slip, gave it to her, and plucked the money out of her grip.
“Nice doing business with you. No need to eat this one. Just keep it on you. It’ll lessen the presence of spirits.”
“Lessen?” she asked.
“It won’t completely protect you from the ghosts. My home has other charms that magnify the effects, but they’re too bulky to carry everywhere. Whether you like it or not, you are now the proud new owner of the gift of sight.”
“Oh goody.”
Miyoung pushed back out to the alley. The crash of the door exacerbated her headache, but the ghosts were gone. Or mostly gone. There were still shadows that flew in her peripheral vision, but they no longer swept tauntingly past her, and their whispers were silenced.
The buzzing in her pocket made her jump. For a moment she thought one of the ghosts had broken past the charm to shake her. She pulled out her phone and frowned at her mother’s number.
“Hello?”
“The school called me.” Yena’s voice dripped with displeasure. “They said you haven’t been in class all week. You know how I despise being contacted by your schools. Is there something I should know?”
“I just didn’t feel like going,” Miyoung said lightly, hoping the tremor in her hands didn’t transmit to her voice. “When will you be home?” Now her voice did shake. She was tired and scared, and she needed her mother.
“I still have business to take care of. It’ll be another two weeks at least.”