four and a half months: I’d be sweeping the pavilion and Inspector Han would stride in—the military official capable of shooting two hundred arrows a day in rain, snow, or sleet; the soldier who could slip silently through the grass with scarcely a ripple, like a speedy leopard.
But today, Inspector Han stopped by the gate of the police bureau, leaning against the wooden beam with a book clutched against his chest. He had thinned so much that I could see the sharp lines of his cheekbones and jaw. He breathed so slowly, and it took a few more breaths before he dragged one foot forward, then the other. Yet on his third step, as though struck from behind, he swayed.
“Inspector!” I broke into a run. But no matter how fast I ran, the space swallowed up my steps and expanded, stretching into an enormous distance between me and Inspector Han, now collapsed on the ground, not moving. My heartbeat hammered against my chest, blood roaring in my ears. I nearly missed a step, stumbling in my haste.
“Inspector, Inspector!” My knees hit the ground at last. I shook his shoulder, and when his eyes opened, just a slit, it was as though he were staring up at me from deep under the waves. “Wake up, sir!”
I touched his pulse—weak, but beating steadily. His skin was icy cold. I pulled his arm around my shoulder, and pushing all my strength into my legs, I tried to rise. His deadweight dragged me back down.
“Help!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Someone help!”
The heavy hand of silence did not move from the bureau, nor did the shadows sleeping under the pavilion eaves stir. It was just me, the inspector, and his book. My attention darted onto the latter, its spine bound with five red stitches. Someone had written on the paper cover, Officer Shim’s Secret Investigation Records, and the sight of this book slid a thorn into my chest. It was the journal with information regarding the whereabouts of the priest. The man whom Inspector Han, despite his torn mind and body, had poured every ounce of his life into finding.
You must kill Priest Zhou Wenmo were Mother’s last words to Older Brother in her suicide note. I remembered now. The day Brother and Sister had fought, he’d recited the note, reminding her of our duty to return to the capital, where the priest was rumored to be. I had overheard everything. Avenge the downfall of our family so that the sorrows of your dead parents might be appeased and that the living might find peace.
The living … that was me. Yet I had never asked for vengeance. All I had ever wanted was a home and a family. A burning emotion swelled in my chest, stinging the corner of my eyes, but there was no time to grieve.
My voice cracked as I yelled out again, “Please, someone help!” I gripped the inspector’s arm and heaved. I had not gotten him beyond the gates when I heard the crunching of hurried footsteps. In the white distance outside the bureau, a dark figure grew into a person I immediately recognized.
“Ryun!” I cried the moment he was near, and through my shuddering breath, I managed to say, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll tell you later. Let me help bring the inspector to his office!”
Ryun panted, still out of breath from running, and with his help, we managed to haul Inspector Han up. His feet dragged and staggered as we led him forward. His head lolled. His lips were so pale they blended in with his blanched face.
“Once we get him to shelter,” Ryun said, “I’ll go find Commander Yi and the physician as well.”
“The physician? Do you know what happened?”
“My master has pushed his health to its limit, and with his infected wound…” Ryun shook his head. “He thinks himself invincible, but he is not. The physician warned him!”
Specks of snow caught on my lashes and dissolved into my burning eyes. “Of what?”
“For three days straight, he told my master to rest, that his health was failing him. But instead he didn’t even sleep and spent his time examining records, searching for that priest. And then last night, he heard Woorim had apostatized to avoid being executed. She hasn’t yet confessed Priest Zhou Wenmo’s whereabouts, so the inspector told me he’d return to the bureau to interview her. So when I couldn’t find him this morning, I knew I’d find him here…” Ryun’s voice wavered, and grief