cave sloped lower as they walked and both boys had to crouch to pass through. The top of Junu’s head scraped against something hanging from the ceiling, and he didn’t dare reach up to check what it was. If he was lucky, it was just a stalactite. If he wasn’t . . . What creatures might dwell in such a dark place?
Suddenly, it felt like the silence was no longer so thick. Instead there was a low hum in the air.
“Keep behind me,” Junu said. And as if on cue, they stepped into a round cavern. It was tall enough for them to stand straight, barely.
“Where are we?” Jihoon whispered, the reverent voice of someone who knew he was somewhere sacred. Or somewhere cursed. He stepped out from behind Junu, despite the warning, to see what was inside the cave. He held up his phone flashlight, letting it sweep across the space. It lit up an object in the center of the cavern. “A jar? That’s what all this fuss is about?”
Junu didn’t reply. He had no time to explain to Jihoon what his weak human eyes couldn’t see. Junu stared at the jar. It looked too new, too shiny. The pattern of branches more blue than black because of the ink used on the pale ceramic. Just as it had been the day he’d had it commissioned. And around the smooth ceramic, there was a shadow. Like the flow of energy that surrounded many supernatural creatures. The energy of a being so strong that she could barely be contained.
Except by love. Words spoken to him hundreds of years ago. Words that told him only he could truly trap the woman he once professed to love above anything else.
But the jar was not what he was here for. He turned toward the perimeter of the cave.
“Can you hear that?” Jihoon asked.
“What?” Junu asked as he ran his hand over the stone wall.
“It sounds like . . . a whisper. You can’t hear that?”
Junu stared at Jihoon, who looked both confused and mesmerized. Was Jihoon really hearing something? Junu willed himself to listen, but all he heard was the echo of his own breathing.
“It’s probably just the wind,” Junu said, even though he couldn’t feel a breeze on his skin. “Just stay put. I need to concentrate.” He turned to the walls, running his hands over them. The rock was cold to the touch, like it was ice instead of stone. It felt like Sinhye had leached all the energy from the space around her prison. Feeding on anything she could reach.
He tried to remember the movements of a day that he’d spent hundreds of years trying to forget. How he followed the shaman into this cave. How he scraped his head that time, too. Except he lifted his hand frantically, expecting to find blood, before he realized he no longer bled. And it had fueled his fire. Sinhye had cursed him to this fate, so he would enact his revenge.
And with this rage running through him, he didn’t even flinch when he saw her lying unconscious in the middle of the cave, surrounded by talismans pasted to the walls. His jar sat beside her. It was to be a wedding gift and instead sat as her future prison.
What was once made with love would be sealed with hate.
And the shaman guided him through the process. One that ended with him piercing a large bujeok pasted at the north end of the cave. He’d expected to find the stone resistant, but his bangmangi sliced through the wall like butter.
He found that spot now. But instead of the knob of his staff, he found a hole the size of his fist. Empty.
“It’s gone,” he murmured.
“You really don’t hear that?” Jihoon asked as if he hadn’t heard Junu, and when the dokkaebi turned, Jihoon stood right next to the jar. His hands on the lid. “She says it’s in here.” There was a scrape as he started to lift the lid.
With a garbled shout, Junu sprinted across the cave and slammed the lid back with a crack. He almost expected the thing to break in half from the pressure, but it held strong.
“You stupid human. Do you know what you almost did?”
“What?” Jihoon’s voice shook. And for the first time, he stared at Junu with fear.
“If she got out and—” Junu couldn’t even finish the thought, his eyes darting around the cave, trying to measure the feel of the space. Was it somehow