gaze away from the dead boy and looked at the inspector again, and he was changed. He seemed unable to drag his gaze away from his bloody hands, and as though the forest floor were tilting beneath his feet, he stumbled. Sweat glistened on his temple.
Seeing Ryun sprinting to his master, I grabbed ahold of myself and ran. I kicked one bandit between his legs, and as he buckled forward, I raised my leg high and struck down with my heel. His head slammed to the ground as Ryun punched and rolled and grabbed hair. Inspector Han swung his sword at the bandits as a drunkard might swing a torch to frighten off a tiger, no direction or balance to his movements.
A large hand suddenly gripped my arm, and a coldness touched my neck. I had not heard the approaching man, and now my life centered around a sharp, cutting sting digging into my skin.
“Drop your sword, Inspector,” my captor yelled, “or I’ll kill her!”
My heart pounded. Inspector Han blinked, as if haziness clouded his vision. He struggled to look at us. I held my breath.
“I’m not fooling around!” The bandit pressed the blade deeper, but not yet through my skin. “I’ll kill her!”
Silence. A grimace darkened Inspector Han’s face. “Go ahead.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?” The captor gaped. “Do you not value your servant?”
Pain clamped my heart as Inspector Han swayed, then stabbed the blade into the earth to support himself. “I have no need for a damo who gets in the way of my investigation.”
Disbelief weakened my knees. I’d made one mistake, a small mistake—wanting to see what the inspector was seeing. I had never meant for any of this to happen. Yet Inspector Han was finished with me. Just like that.
The ache of betrayal jabbed at the underside of my ribs, more painful than the blade pressed against my throat.
Little Sister, my brother’s voice whispered into the burning cavern of my chest. His voice steadied me, as it always steadied me. No one in this entire kingdom can care for you as deeply as family.
The words coursed through my body. The bones of my brother wept in the cold earth. No burial mound, no eulogy, no flowers. All alone. As alone as I felt now, though I was surrounded by grimy faces.
I could not die like this.
Ten thousand rivers run unceasingly into the sea, yet it never overflows. That is the measurement of our love for you. Mother, Sister, and I. Our love is the sea—a deep sea.
I still had family. I had to live for her.
With all my might, I crushed my heel into the bandit’s foot, and the knife jolted away from my neck. Grabbing the blade with my bare hand, I bit his wrist hard, my teeth clinging to his very bones as he grabbed my hair and tried to wrench me off.
“Master!” Ryun’s frantic voice cried.
Ahead of me, Inspector Han fell to one knee. No one had struck him, or even touched him. Yet he swayed, then lost his grip on the sword and collapsed to the side.
“This is heaven’s sign!” a bandit called out. “Collect our wounded men! We need to retreat, now!”
My captor tried shaking me off, but when I continued to cling to the blade, a growl rumbled deep within his chest. The hilt struck my face and stars exploded before my eyes. Blood rolled in my mouth as I found myself lying flat on the ground, staring up at the blur of dizzying green. I closed my eyes, sharp pain shooting up from my fingers and piercing my head, making my ears ache, and when I looked down at my hand I saw why. I’d cut my fingers open, my palm a puddle of fire-hot blood.
I curled into a ball and remembered what to do when the sight of blood terrified me. Breathe slowly and deeply through your nose, then let it out, Older Brother had taught me. Listen to the whooshing sound.
Whoosh, the waves upon the shore.
Whoosh, Mother falling off a cliff.
TEN
WHEN I WAS young, I could sleep long into the afternoon if no one woke me, drunk on dreams filled with sweetness and warmth. But on the night after the Mount Hwa incident, I closed my eyes and saw a dead boy with a sword in his stomach, just him and me in the silent forest. No matter how hard I tried to wake up, I could not escape the forest, and no matter how far I ran, the