“I’m working on it,” Somin said. “We obviously need to get your bead back still.” She paused a moment, a strange expression crossing her face. “Sinhye told me something at the restaurant. I didn’t remember it at first because of everything that happened, and I’m not sure if it’s true. But if it is, then I think it might be important.”
Trepidation filled Miyoung. She wasn’t ready for any more bad news, not right now.
“What is it?”
“Sinhye said that if a gumiho doesn’t feed for a hundred days, she can sever her ties to her bead and become fully human.”
“I haven’t fed for even longer, and I am still connected.”
“Yeah, but Junu said that you’re in some kind of stasis since your bead is in the Between. Once you’re reunited with your bead, you can cut your bond with it. You can become fully human.”
“I never really thought that was possible,” Miyoung admitted. “Do you think cutting my bond to my bead will hurt?”
“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Somin said, squeezing her shoulder.
Miyoung gave her a weak smile. “I don’t want to think about this right now. We have more important things to take care of, like saving Jihoon. And stopping Junu from making an irreversible mistake.”
Somin nodded. “The reaper said that the way to save Jihoon is to sacrifice an immortal soul. I think I might have an idea for that.”
“Okay? What is it?”
“Since you can still sense energy, do you think you can still siphon it?”
Miyoung lifted her brow, surprised. “I suppose I could, since I haven’t severed my ties to my bead. Why?”
“I think we’re going to have to kill a god.”
56
“YOU SURE YOU won’t renege?” Sinhye asked. She was sitting beside Junu on the ground, shadows growing long as the day trailed on. If the shaman didn’t come back soon, it would be too dark to see anything.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he said, making nonsense designs in the dirt with a stick.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not trying to reopen old wounds. I’m here to tell you that you need to keep up your end of the bargain. You always did let your emotions and insecurities get the best of you. If you do that now, then we’re both as good as dead.”
That’s exactly what I’m hoping for, Junu thought.
The trees rustled as the shaman walked out of the forest again. Alone.
“What’s going on?” Junu asked, searching the trees for another figure. Where was the sansin?
“Follow me,” she said.
So they followed her up the path until they arrived at a small clearing where a low, flat stone stood surrounded by trees.
Junu recognized it as a natural altar, the type used for ceremonies where offerings were made to the sansin. When he was a boy, he used to participate in them himself, bringing wine and meat to offer to their local god.
The shaman pulled something from her sleeve. A yellow paper with red writing. A bujeok. She approached Sinhye, who bared her teeth in a growl.
“Don’t come closer if you want to keep your hands,” she warned.
But the shaman did not hesitate; she reached out and pressed the bujeok to Sinhye’s chest. The letters seemed to glow a moment as it stuck to her.
Sinhye grunted, twisting and turning like she was held in place by chains.
“You bound her? To what?”
“To me,” the shaman said. “My master approaches.”
She turned to face the north.
Junu did as well, and soon he made out the outline of a man in the forest beyond. He had the look of a man approaching the century mark, but Junu knew better than to underestimate him because of that. He was a god; his physical form was in no way an indicator of his power. He had a long white beard and was robed in a traditional hanbok more common two hundred years ago. Silk and satin sewn together to form a robe-like top that mostly hid white pants. But despite rubbing against low shrubs, no dirt or leaves stuck to the pristine material.
He rode on the back of a giant orange tiger. Junu wondered if it was the same tiger he’d met all those centuries ago.
“My master has decided to grant you an audience,” the shaman announced.
Junu stepped forward and folded in a ninety-degree bow. “I’ve come to accept your deal.”
“You are brave to return to this place.” The sansin’s voice reverberated, like it was echoing through a canyon instead