I dug my nails into a higher rock, tried scrambling against the wall and pushing my weight up, but I slipped. Gurgling, I went under, my mouth filled with tainted water, waves closing over my topknot. I flailed until I managed to reach the surface, even more drained of strength as my entire life clung again onto the crevices.
I couldn’t give up now, so I tried climbing up again. It didn’t seem impossible, for the wall was rugged. But I only managed to barely lift myself out of the water with each attempt. By the time the circle of sky deepened into the darkest shade of ebony, I was trembling from exhaustion and cold. A haziness crept into my mind, and I wanted to let go and fall asleep.
I pinched my cheek hard.
I couldn’t die like this. Not after all that I had gone through. I had to tell Inspector Han that I knew who the real killer was. I’d never even had a chance to tell him, “Orabeoni, do not be scared.”
I struggled around the wall, desperate to find an easier way up. I needed more jutting rocks and deeper crevices. I pushed myself from one side to the other, and right then, I froze. My hands and feet, spread-eagled, touched the opposite walls. Moving one foot, then the next, quickly up, I braced myself with my hands pressed against the stones as I pushed myself farther up toward the opening. With my soaked robe and my already trembling arms, I felt as though I was hoisting up a sack of rocks with me, but it was working, the water releasing me from its icy embrace. Water from my drenched hair slid into my eyes, blurring my vision, but I could see it. The circle of sky above me was growing closer.
And even closer.
With every ounce of my remaining strength, I pushed myself higher, and I was so close to the ledge that I could smell the fresh air, crisp with dried leaves and moss. Then all at once, I felt a popping in my shoulder, a bone twisted out from its socket. Sharp pain ripped down my arm, rendering it useless. Only my wobbly legs held me up now, and already, I could feel myself slipping. The sky was getting farther. Soon I would sink under.
A surge of sorrow replaced my panic. I was going to die, and one day a peasant was going to fish me out, a corpse bloated and unrecognizable.
A hand shot down and grasped me by the collar.
“Keep climbing, Seol-ah,” came a deep voice. “Take my hand.”
I looked up. Torchlight funneled down the well, illuminating the grimy wall, my blood-soaked hands. Inspector Han stared down at me with frightened eyes. For the first time in twelve years, I touched his hand, and his fingers wrapped around mine.
“Don’t worry. I won’t let you go. You’re almost there.”
Fresh air greeted my damp face. Relief soared in my heart as, with a final lurch, I flopped forward onto the ground. I couldn’t believe it; I was safe now. Hearing footsteps rustle through the frozen leaves, I barely managed to turn and look.
Torches encircled me, the officers and Commander Yi all watching me with wide eyes.
“What?” Officer Goh cried. “Isn’t that Seol?”
“The scrambling noise was her?” another officer said.
“Who threw you in?” Goh demanded. “Was it Officer Shim?”
“H-he ordered it.” My right shoulder continued to burn as I weakly pointed at the well’s opening. “Th-there is one more p-p-person. Dead.”
Goh rushed forward and peered down, his torch raised high. “It’s true,” he called out over his shoulder. “A corpse, I see it. Who is it?”
“A shaman who dwells on the mountain—”
A startled sound escaped from the crowd. It was the old man, one of those who had used and abused Madam Byeol, who had shown me to the shaman’s hut earlier. He must have also offered to be the officers’ guide when they had ridden into the village.
“So Officer Shim has killed in total three victims,” Inspector Han said.
“There was a f-f-fourth.” My teeth chattered. “His mother. I know he k-killed her.”
Another stranger watched me. A man of regal stature, garbed in his silk riding robe of purple, stood among the officers. The darkness did not hide his features, which held the handsomeness of a soldier; brave, chiseled, and with honorable eyes. It was Councillor Ch’oi, and at the news of how his former mistress had died, he placed his hand over those eyes. “His own