the last. Perhaps because Junu knew that they’d likely become the guardians of his grave. What an odd thing to walk toward. Death. He remembered a time when he’d wished for it every day. But eventually, he’d learned to drown out that depression by living however he pleased. Still it never made him truly happy.
It was only now, in the last few months, that he’d begun to feel like he was truly living. It felt like more of a life than the last few centuries. More of one than when he’d been human. This time he’d spent with this strange group of people who had somehow come to mean the world to him. Who he’d sacrifice everything for. It was perhaps the only way he knew to give a final purpose to his wayward life. He’d done no good while he was on this earth. So at least he could do one good thing as he left it.
Junu stopped and reached into his pack.
“Why are we stopping?” Sinhye asked.
“Because we have to prepare.”
“What is there to prepare? We just see the sansin, get your staff, and then you burn him to ashes. It shouldn’t be that hard.”
“He has to trust us first. The dokkaebi fire won’t hurt him unless I can get close enough,” Junu said, pulling duct tape and rope out of his bag.
“I don’t know what you think we’re here for. But you better put that away.”
“He won’t believe you came willingly. He’ll think something’s wrong if you just walk up with me.”
Sinhye scowled, but she didn’t rebut his statement. She glanced up the mountain, then back toward the way they came. Like she was considering just leaving him.
Junu practically held his breath. Maybe he was pushing it. Maybe he was foolish to believe she’d go along with this. What would he do if she left? Then, with a sigh, she held out her hands.
He started to wrap duct tape around her wrists.
“Not so tight!” Sinhye complained.
“It has to look convincing,” Junu said. And if he took a bit of pleasure in wrapping another tight band of tape, then he wouldn’t let it show. Plus, he wasn’t sure how strong she was. Taking the rope, he looped it over the tape, then around her waist, effectively securing her wrists to her own torso.
“Okay, we’re good,” he said, holding a bit of rope like a lead.
“Well, let’s go, then,” Sinhye said with an expectant look. “Since we’re prepared and all now.”
They walked more slowly as Sinhye struggled to balance herself with her hands tied. Twice she almost stumbled, and when Junu tried to help her, she elbowed him away. Fine, let her do it herself, he thought.
The trees thinned a bit. Junu began to recognize markers. And too soon, they reached the meeting place. Junu half hoped the shaman wouldn’t be where she’d promised. But she stood at the entrance of the cave, dressed in a simple linen hanbok. Around her stood columns of rocks stacked on top of each other. Shrines to the mountain god.
“I thought perhaps you wouldn’t come,” she said, and it didn’t sound like she’d have cared either way.
“I told your niece I would be here,” Junu said.
“I’m not foolish enough to trust a dokkaebi’s word,” the shaman replied.
Instead of heading into the cave as Junu had expected, she walked past it. He followed her, Sinhye stumbling behind him. “I see you’ve secured the gumiho,” the shaman said. “Are you sure that’s enough?”
“She’s in a human body. It limits her,” Junu said, keeping his voice steady, his face still.
The shaman nodded as she moved through the forest. They walked almost a kilometer before the shaman stopped.
“Is the sansin coming here?” Junu asked.
“I will go alert my sansin that you have arrived. You wait here.”
“Will he be here soon?” Junu asked.
“He’ll take as long as he takes. It is not our job to tell him when to appear.”
“The perks of being a god,” Junu quipped with a wry smile.
“Be careful with your tongue, dokkaebi. My sansin does not take to humor well.”
“Don’t worry, I remember,” Junu couldn’t help saying.
With a final scowl in his direction, the shaman disappeared into the woods.
54
MIYOUNG STRAINED TO keep her pace. It was breakneck, but it was necessary. They had no way of knowing how far ahead Junu was. Or if he’d yet encountered the sansin. Miyoung wanted to be angry. But she couldn’t bring herself fully to the emotion. It wasn’t so long ago she’d have done something like this.