to share that story with even me, his closest companion.”
“Is there more than one legend about this creature?”
“There are many horse-dragon legends, and many are legends from Imperial China. But the ‘Mighty Infant’ myth is a tale that belongs to our kingdom.”
“What does the story say?”
“It is about how a particular mountain in the town of Goyang derived its name, Yongma. This name is a combination of two Chinese characters: yong for ‘dragon,’ and ma for ‘horse.’”
“Horse-dragon,” I whispered.
She bowed her head. “You will find many stables in Goyang; ranchers set up businesses there, hoping the spirit of the yongma will descend upon their horses. Madam Byeol was also from this village; her father was said to be a rancher as well.”
“But what does a mountain have to do with a ‘Mighty Infant’?”
She sighed. “I have not told this tale in many years…,” she said, then shared with me the myth of “The Mighty Infant.”
It was about an extraordinary child born into a lowly home. On the third day after the child’s birth, the mother left for the kitchen to drink water, and on her return, the boy had disappeared. Surprised, the mother looked everywhere and finally found the child sitting atop a high shelf. She examined the child, wondering if he was hurt, and discovered a small pair of wings sprouting from his shoulders.
At once, she reported this discovery to her husband, who then told the entire village, causing a great commotion. The villagers debated fiercely, and once a consensus was reached, the chief elder declared, “A peculiar boy was born to a poor household, so when the boy grows up, he will most certainly not fit in and bring trouble to us instead. Perhaps he will become a dangerous rebel or a traitor, and then our village will not be able to avoid danger either. It is appropriate that we kill this boy.”
The parents of this child, fearing for their own lives, later crushed the struggling child with a sack of millet. The moment the boy breathed his last, a strange creature appeared at the back of a mountain—half dragon, half horse. This beast, sensing that the Great Master who was to ride him had died, raced to the village well, jumped in, and drowned there. Concluding the story, Madam Song said, “The boy was different from the rest, and in this kingdom, one cannot survive being peculiar.”
I couldn’t understand why Madam Byeol thought the horse-dragon creature so significant to her relationship with Councillor Ch’oi that she had sent him a necklace depicting it before her death.
As though seeing my confusion, Madam Song said, “Don’t you see? Byeol raised her child alone, the shame of the village. Her son was different from the rest, like the child in the legend, but in another way: he was fatherless and born out of wedlock. So she killed him, then killed herself.”
Silence filled me. After a few moments, I asked, “They really died?”
“Councillor Ch’oi went to the village and learned that his mistress had thrown her thirteen-year-old son into a well, then hung herself,” she whispered.
A loud male voice suddenly broke into our conversation. “There she is!”
Madam Song looked at someone over my shoulder, then frowned at me. “Are you in trouble?”
I looked behind and glimpsed a black hat with a hanging red tassel. A police hat. My eyes locked onto Officer Ky?n’s. He charged toward me with the swiftness of a dark storm cloud, prepared to swallow me.
* * *
The police whistle shrieked behind me no matter how fast I ran. Turning sharply, I bolted in between two shops and into Pimatgol Alley, the peasant’s road that creased through the sea of shops. My legs burned, lit on fire as I pushed myself to run faster. But no matter how fast I ran, Officer Ky?n was always close.
The row of rooftop eaves cast a shadow over me as I scrambled, looking for a hiding place. An alley appeared up ahead. Taking a chance, I rushed into the dark slit. Only a single ray of light reached in, illuminating a splintered wagon and a littering of fish bones. I ran deeper, but a sudden wall interrupted my flight.
A dead end.
I looked over my shoulder, cold sweat sliding down my cheek. I waited, but no one followed me in. A breath of relief rushed out of my mouth, and I pressed my forehead against the wall, my eyes closed. My hammering heart slackened into a deep and steady drumbeat. I was safe