Young-hee and the Pullocho (32 page)

“Will you come with us?” asked Young-hee.

“With
you
?” said Mirinae, with an incredulous huff and a hollow laugh. “You're the reason my laboratory and home is so much scrap.” Overhead, the observatory platform—empty of telescopes, desks and devices—moaned and sagged. Mirinae pulled out an interconnected jumble of bamboo sticks, large sheets of paper, gears, and ropes. She carried it through another hole in the wall that had been created by the fleeing Storm Lord to the field outside. The after-storm sun shone bright and piercing. “I'm going my own way, as far from you lot as I can. I would thank you never to come to me for help again.”

“Not unreasonable,” said Samjogo.

The bamboo and paper looked like a chaotic mess, but Mirinae began turning and snapping pieces into place, aligning the wood into rectangles, and filling the space between with the paper. After a couple of minutes, Mirinae's latest device was clear—a large kite, with a seat and controls. A glider.

She went back into her home, avoiding unstable objects, and returned with a couple of bags bulging with star charts and blueprints. “My machines, I can rebuild, but the science, that I need,” she said. She put the large piece of red crystal into a bag and half-smiled. “Consider yourself lucky my fire pearl survived.”

“What is it?” asked Young-hee, not sure why.

Mirinae huffed again. “It grants farsight. It holds sunlight. And much more.” Then mounting her kite-glider, she waited. A moment later, a cool, gentle wind swept over the plateau, lifting Mirinae high into the air. She headed back toward the Cheongyong Mountains, and in just a couple of minutes, was out of sight.

“Fascinating,” said Samjogo.

“She never said goodbye,” said Young-hee.

“I don't think we were very good houseguests,” noted Tiger. With a huge boom, the house shook and trembled, and a cloud of dust billowed out. “That must have been the platform,” said Samjogo. “Come on, let's see if we can salvage anything and get moving.”

✴ ✴ ✴

Young-hee's path continued from Mirinae's house down a staircase cut right into the cliff. From the top of the cliff, they had surveyed the land Mirinae described—at the precipice bottom it receded in a rocky slope for several miles, until cut through by the Hungry River, which stretched from horizon to horizon. Across the river lay vast, dense woods—the Great Forest that everyone warned about. And beyond that, a looming ridge of purple mountains, with one peak towering over the rest. Somewhere high on that hill were the Sacred City and the sandalwood tree—and the pullocho.

The stone stairs were narrow, and time had smoothed some and worn others cracked and fragile. For four-legged Tiger, still shaky from the battle, they were especially treacherous. But the three kept moving, motivated by the knowledge that the Storm Lord and Ghost Queen were out there somewhere, still after them.

After a little over an hour they reached the cliff bottom. Ahead, a rocky plain rolled from the highlands far in the distance. Samjogo wanted them across the river, for safety, so they headed as straight as they could. The black stone path was visible on the uneven ground, but barely. “When you know where you are going, paths tend to follow your will,” explained Samjogo. Young-hee had heard enough about path science and just looked ahead to the mountain that held the Sacred City. Hope of actually finding the pullocho gave her renewed urgency and relief—along with increased anxiety from the Storm Lord's attack.

They were halfway to the distant river when a distant rattle wail swept the plain. Tiger guessed it was a ghost spotting them from the cliff top.

“At least Nwaegongdo won't be flying soon with his messed up wing,” said Samjogo.

They talked little as they hurried to the river. Debilitated by the fight, no one relished another showdown. A good couple of miles away, the river roared with the ugly sound of flooded water moving hard, tearing up anything in its way. But Young-hee welcomed it as one landmark closer to getting her brother back.

Then it was Tiger's turn to slow and look around as he picked up a scent. “Up the hill, there,” he said, nodding toward two large figures on horseback, still a ways off, but closing in.

“The Storm Lord appears to have gotten a horse,” said Samjogo. “And he's pulling a cart.”

“And his friend?” asked Young-hee.

“Another evil spirit, I assume.”

As they broke into a run, Young-hee saw the sky darken and fill with clouds; the Storm Lord at work again, she thought. The rough and rocky ground made running tough for them—and their pursuers.

“I'll go head them off, buy you some time,” said Tiger.

“No, we should stick together,” said Young-hee, between breaths.

“She's right, stay with us,” said Samjogo. Tiger obeyed, but moved between the riders and Young-hee.

Her lungs burning from the run, Young-hee reached the river—but it was completely impassable. Swollen from the Storm Lord's rains, it churned brown and bellowed with fury, licking at its banks and, in places, spilling greedily over. She understood why it was called the Hungry River. “What now?” asked Young-hee breathlessly.

Samjogo scanned up and down the river, for a passable place, a ferry, anything. But there was only the great and terrible water, at least a hundred meters across. They were stuck.

Nwaegongdo and the other man on huge workhorses stopped about fifty meters away. The second man was gigantic, too—eight feet tall, with a face as red and rough as lychee rind. Dressed in dark green, with golden script embroidered on his sleeves, he carried a wide, heavy sword. The fierce, blood-red horse pulled a cart carrying a large wooden box full of baskets.

“This time, I brought help,” Nwaegongdo laughed. “Meet the Lord of War.”

The red-faced man dismounted silently, walked to the cart, picked up the box, and placed it on the ground. He touched the small flame that rose from his open hand to the box of baskets. Flames quickly flared into a massive bonfire. Young-hee shielded her eyes from the brilliance, wondering what was going on.

“That fire is how the Lord of War carries his army,” said Samjogo. “We cannot fight his hordes. We need to get out of here.”
Hordes?
Young-hee wondered.

“There's nowhere to go,” taunted the Storm Lord. “And the Lord of War has a present for you. It is rude to just run off.”

As fire consumed the box and baskets, they tumbled to the ground, releasing something bumpy and busy. Smoke and fire obscured whatever was pouring out, but it didn't move like a regular liquid. Dark and jumbled, like a dense swarm of black ants, it moved toward them.

And that's when Young-hee realized what was pouring out of the flaming baskets—swarms of tiny soldiers, just an inch or two tall. By the thousands. Tiny soldiers clanking tiny swords off tiny shields, pounding the earth with tiny boots, and charging with tiny battle cries joined in a sickening, high-pitched cacophony. Closing fast.

Tiger crouched, ready to fight. Samjogo readied his hyeopdo. Young-hee just gulped.
How do you fight against thousands of tiny soldiers
, she wondered.

Just then, she heard a noise over the roar of the river. Searching about, she heard it again, clearer. “Excuse me?” it said. Young-hee looked behind her at the river's edge. There was the head of a large turtle sticking out of the water. “Are you Miss Young-hee?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Please, the Water Dragon King sent us to help.”

Mansoo? How did the Water Dragon King know they needed help?
But how didn't matter, they just needed help. The thousands of tiny warriors screamed as they rushed forward. “Can you help us fight Nwaegongdo's warriors?”

“Fight? Oh, Turtles don't fight.” Twenty feet and closing fast. “Please, climb on. We'll get you to the other side.”

“We?” asked Young-hee. But even as she spoke, dozens of turtles rose out of the water, locking together to form a bridge with their shells.

“Hurry, please. The current is very strong, and it is hard to hold on.”

Young-hee grabbed at Samjogo and Tiger. “Come on! Run!”

“Where?” said Tiger, too busy preparing to fight to notice their new allies. The tiny soldiers were almost on top of them when he looked and grasped what was happening.

“Come on, come on!” Young-hee shouted as she tugged on Samjogo. He saw the turtles, too, and in an instant they were all rushing over the turtle-back bridge, just inches above the gushing water.

As soon as the three crossed one turtle, it would sink back into the river and swim away, so that the bridge disappeared as quickly as they ran. The stampeding warriors, running too hard to stop, poured into the fierce river, which quickly swept them away. With only her feet wet, Young-hee stumbled to the far shore of the river, along with Tiger and Samjogo.

“There are entirely too many creatures trying to capture you,” said Samjogo.

“I'm not exactly enjoying this either,” she said, plunking down in the wet grass. She turned to the turtles in the water. “Thank you so much. And thanks to Mansoo. We never could have gotten away without you.”

“We are always happy to serve the Water Dragon King and help his friends,” said the lead turtle.

“The Dragon King sends servants to help you?” said Samjogo, dazzled.

“I told you before he was my friend,” said Young-hee.

“Yes, but, I didn't … I mean … wow! A good friend to have.”

“Oh, Miss Young-hee, one more thing,” said the turtle. “A message from the Dragon King—our lord says you shouldn't be scared to give up what you most want.”

“What? Why would he say that?”
Did he mean my brother?

“I do not know. That was the message. But now, my siblings and I need to go, before the evil spirits return.” And without so much as a
blup
, the turtles sank beneath the brown, churning waters.

Tiger kept an eye on the far side of the river, while Samjogo unhappily surveyed the forest a few dozen meters ahead, as dense as a wall.

Young-hee looked at the path, which split into two, following the edge of the forest upstream and downstream. “Which way are we supposed to go?” she asked.

“We might not have any options,” interjected Tiger, meekly. “Oh, dear.”

Young-hee and Samjogo looked across the river. Nwaegongdo's tiny warriors were still streaming from the burning baskets into the rushing river in such numbers that they were starting to create a barrier. At first it was a small outcropping, but as more and more ran into the water, they began to form a living dam. There was no end to the soldiers under Nwaegongdo's command. In just a few moments, the dam extended about ten meters into the water.

The Storm Lord first, followed by the Lord of War, rode to the barrier. Nwaegongdo's horse placed a tentative hoof onto the barrier and, convinced it would hold, strode forward, its rider laughing and sneering.

“Oh, jeez, you've got to be kidding,” said Young-hee. “Are they actually going to cross like that?”

“I'm afraid so,” said Samjogo.

The living dam was now a quarter of the way across the river.

“We cannot fight them,” said Samjogo.

Young-hee had a terrible feeling she knew the alternative. No one even had to say it. They just turned and walked off the path, toward the Great Forest. Where they had been warned not to go. Where there was no path.

As they approached the forest, the evil spirits urged the tiny soldiers into the river even faster. The Storm Lord shouted something at Young-hee, but the pounding water snatched his words away.

Young-hee went first, pushing through the dense, fence-like wall of the Great Forest's edge. Just what she had been warned not to do.

The Great Forest was absolutely still and silent. Despite the onslaught of evil that had been rushing toward them, the moment they crossed the threshold of the woods, the sounds of the spirits, their horses, the charging tiny warriors, and even the roaring river dropped away. Here, it was as cozy and comforting as a warm bath. Young-hee thought she had never before been enveloped by so much utter nothingness, even in the depths of Darang Cave.