long, grateful breath.
“I’m reminded I’m not as young as I used to be. Every time I come up here, it gets harder and harder.”
“Do you like hiking?” Jihoon asked, starting to hold out his water bottle before realizing it was empty.
Junu pulled another bottle from his pack and offered it.
She shook her head with a pursed smile. “I’m not one for hiking for pleasure. But when there’s a purpose, I can do it.”
Something about how she spoke struck a nerve in Junu. His voice was measured as he asked, “And what purpose is that?”
“Oh, I think you already know. A creature such as yourself. You’re good at observing others.”
“Are you a ghost or a demon?” Junu asked.
“Do I strike you as either one?” she asked, her smile becoming sharper as she watched him.
“No,” Junu said slowly. “Shaman, then.”
That made Jihoon’s eyes widen, and he took a small step away. Junu wondered if he even realized he did it. Not that Junu blamed him. The last time Jihoon had come up against a shaman, he nearly died.
“It’s odd to see a dokkaebi and a human traveling together. And as you’re on my mountain, it seems like something I should take seriously.”
“Is your god the sansin of this mountain?” Junu asked, glancing up at the craggy peaks.
“He is.” She nodded. “And if you’re here to cause mischief or make problems, then I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“We’re not here to disturb your god,” Junu assured her. “In fact, we weren’t planning on letting him know we were here at all.” He didn’t add that the last time he’d been on this mountain, the sansin had banned Junu.
The shaman turned to Jihoon again, who gave a weak smile. Then she nodded. “Make sure your business is done before nightfall.”
“We will,” Junu promised.
With that, the shaman turned to make her way up the path again. She stopped and turned back, looking intently at Jihoon.
“There’s a strange energy in you,” she said. “Like you’ve held more than one soul.”
Jihoon seemed at a loss for words. He looked imploringly at Junu for help.
“He’s a very generous boy,” Junu said. “Some might say his heart is two times the normal size.”
The shaman’s eyes narrowed; then she let out a dry laugh. “You know, I never did like you chonggak dokkaebi. Too smooth for my liking.” She turned to go and shouted a reminder over her shoulder. “Done before nightfall.”
THERE ARE AS many sansin as there are mountains in Korea. They usually don’t leave their mountain. So, if one does not do anything to disrespect a sansin on his mountain, they are safe from his wrath.
Unfortunately, Junu got on the bad side of a sansin.
He only met the god once and it was not a pleasant experience.
Desperate from losing everything that connected him to his human life, Junu thought to take out his rage on the shaman that had turned him into a dokkaebi. She’d promised that revenge would soothe his battered soul. But it had only served to break his spirit.
He found the shaman praying beside an altar of rocks, stacked high in honor of her god.
“Stand and face me, witch!” he shouted.
She kept her back to him and did not speak, just continued to pray to the sansin.
“I said stand. Or I will strike you down where you sit.” Junu pressed forward, a knife grasped tightly in his sweat-slicked hand.
Now she did speak, her back still facing him. “You have one chance to leave.”
Junu let out a bitter laugh. “You think you’re the one who has a right to make demands? I am the one who holds your life in my hands.”
Now she rose and turned to face him, and as she did, a roar shook the trees.
A tiger, so giant he reached the woman’s shoulders in height, leapt from the forest. He pinned Junu to the ground, teeth gnashing centimeters from his face.
Junu tried to lash out with his knife when a sudden pain lanced through his whole body as if fire raced through his veins.
“What is this? What magic do you wield?” Junu cried.
“You will not threaten one of my loyal shamans.” An old man emerged from the forest.
His hair was white as the moon. A beard trailed down across his silk robes. He wore the garb of a noble.
Junu knew immediately that this was no mortal. Call it his new dokkaebi senses, but he knew without asking that this was a god.
“Please, make it stop,” Junu cried. His