described the Treaty Renewal like drawing straws, a game unequally weighted against Songland. But thanks to you, Mother’s blood represents Songland as well as Aritsar. If her blood fell in Enoba’s shield, the Treaty Renewal would be fair again. Redemptors would be born all over the continent, just like before.”
Woo In considered, then shook his head slowly. “She never meant to anoint me,” he whispered. “And once she did, she tried her hardest to erase my blood from her veins.”
I bit my lip, then reached out to cup Woo In’s cheek. “May I?” He nodded, and I tumbled into a memory of freshly fallen snow.
I am ten years old, and I have survived the Underworld.
I pace at the mouth of Sagimsan’s holy cave, shivering, and smiling at the thought of her. Hyung’s meaty breath toasts the top of my head, and its whiskers tickle my brow. My best friend—my only friend—growls, nipping my hair with disapproval.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I laugh. “I trust her, OK? Once she reads what’s in there, she’ll know how to help us. There will be no more Redemptors. No more kids like me.”
Hyung only sighs, making fog in the frigid air. My head snaps up: footsteps echo from the cave. When The Lady appears, I rush to her side. She smells metallic, drenched in the energy of Sagimsan. For a moment, she stands erect in her fur-lined red cloak, majestic as the moment I first saw her. Then she sways on her feet; the Storyteller’s memory has sapped her strength. Before she stumbles, I offer my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she says, smiling with genuine warmth. “You saved me.”
“Well, you saved me first,” I reply, and she laughs, ruffling my hair.
“Yes, dearest, I suppose I did.”
When I had first returned from the Underworld, I thought my life would grow wings, soaring like the cranes above the Gyeoljeong Sea. I thought I was free: no longer a walking sacrifice, instilling guilt and sorrow in all who saw me.
Instead, whispers of hell-boy had peppered the palace at Eunsan-do. Nursemaids stripped me naked each morning, scouring my birthmarks with salt and ice water. Nobles baited Hyung with swords and sticks, trying to drive the emi-ehran from the palace, and my relatives spat to ward off evil whenever I passed. Min Ja, my fierce sister, tried her hardest to protect me. But only Mother could put a stop to the bullying … and she did nothing but cry.
You smell of death, my baby boy, she sobbed. My poor dead baby.
But I’m not dead, I reminded her. I’m alive. I came back. But she only cried more, and I knew the truth then: Deep down, my mother wished that I had never returned.
My whole life, she had prepared for my death. It was her way of coping, bracing for her inevitable loss. But instead of a sacrificed angel, I had saddled her with a live, cursed son.
Well, I would saddle her no more. The next morning I had packed a meager camp and ridden off with Hyung to Sagimsan. If it weren’t for my emi-ehran, I would have frozen to death within a month.
Then an angel climbed the mountain ridge, snowflakes winking in her floating black hair. She called my name in a voice like music. When she found evidence of my camp, she unloaded her pack and started a cook fire. The mouthwatering smell of sweet fish and spicy noodles coaxed me from my hiding place—my food stores had long run out.
The angel nursed me back to health, wrapping me in panther blankets and spoon-feeding me stew.
“Who are you?” I croaked.
“A friend,” she said, brushing the wind-whipped hair from my forehead. Her dark fingers were warm, as though she had brought the sun with her from Aritsar. “You may call me The Lady.”
“You’re a foreigner. You’re the reason it stormed in Jinhwa Pass all week.”
“I’m afraid I am. Queen Hye Sun would not invite me to her realm, no matter how many letters I sent.” She frowned, pulling her crimson cloak closer around her. “Luckily, I wasn’t trying to go all the way to Songland. I only wanted to find you.”
“Why?”
“Tales reached the Arit border of a lost Redemptor prince, vanished into Sagimsan. Queen Hye Sun is worried sick.”
I snorted. “I doubt it. She wishes I was dead.” I explained about my treatment at the palace. The Lady’s face, suddenly vulnerable, softened as she listened. Anger lined her elegant features.