THE THREE FOUND GIRLS GLOWED like pearls hidden in the depth of the sea, even though they’d been trapped in a cave for over a year. With wide eyes they watched me as I searched the far side of the cave, where they swore the key was, left there for the servants to use whenever they’d come to clean out their chamber pots or bring them their meals. I found it hanging from a nail hammered into the wall—not just one key, but many, hanging all together from a knotted string.
I hastily returned to the cage, the keys jangling. “Which one is it?”
“We don’t know.” Bohui, fourteen winters old and the oldest of the three, had round cheeks and a complexion as smooth as milk. “There’s a key for every cage here.”
I swung the lamp farther into the cave, shocked. The darkness lifted like a veil, revealing rows of empty wooden cages, marching farther into the cave, too far for the reach of my lamplight. A heavy weight sank deep into my chest. How many girls had slept and cried and screamed in these enclosures?
“There were others here before us,” Kyoungja, the second girl, whispered. “At least two more cages filled with the likes of us.” She pointed into the darkness somewhere. “Eunwoo and Gayun were in that cage, and remained with us the longest.”
The third girl, twelve-year-old Mari, hadn’t uttered a word since I’d arrived, but now she spoke in a small voice. “They told us a secret.”
“And what was that?” I asked encouragingly.
“They told us what the girls before them had shared. Apparently, many years ago, a girl named Seohyun found this cave. It was before any of us were trapped down here, but I suppose she guessed what the cages would be used for.”
A breath hitched in my throat as the loose threads connected.
“She managed to escape before she could get caught. That is what the girls before us overheard the servants here talking about.”
Seohyun had escaped—but in the end, Convict Baek had caught up with her. And he had killed her for having discovered Village Elder Moon’s secret.
“Now it is just us,” Mari continued. “Eunwoo and Gayun disappeared like the others, and when I asked the village elder where they had gone, he told us they were taken back home.”
“He was lying,” Maewol whispered, holding on to the wooden bars like she wanted to break them open. “They are still missing.”
We needed to get out of here. I returned to the cage in three quick strides and grabbed ahold of the brass lock, which was shaped like a fish larger than my hand, with eyes that stared warningly at me. I’d used locks like these before, to secure household possessions. Only, I thought with horror, as I selected a random key and tried opening the lock, these girls aren’t the jade rings, silver hairpins, and rolls of silk I keep locked in my cabinet. Yet here they were, Bohui, Kyoungja, and Mari, locked within a cage as though they were.
“How did you end up here?” I asked as I tried another key.
“The three of us went to collect wood in the forest, for kindling,” Bohui explained. “Our parents sent us to go together. But while we were searching, a masked man appeared.”
I shook my head. “What did he say to you three?”
“He ordered us to follow,” Kyoungja whispered. “We saw he carried a sword, so of course we obeyed.”
I tried yet another key. “And then what happened?”
“He took us to a hut in the forest.” Mari’s fawn-like eyes watched my hands. I’d slipped the key in and tried shaking the lock, hoping it would open. It didn’t. “He told us to sit still and tied our wrists. I got so scared I tried to leave, but he warned that if I disobeyed, or even made a sound, he would throw me off a cliff, where another girl had once been thrown off. He left us in the hut until night, when he returned and took us to Village Elder Moon’s second home.”
“Has Village Elder Moon hurt any of you since?” I asked.
“No,” Kyoungja replied. “He promised us that if we ate our meals and complied with his orders, he would take us back to our parents.”
I couldn’t figure the village elder out. If you were my daughter, he’d told me, his voice so genuine, I would be proud of you. How could one man seem like two different people? One, who reminded me of my kind father, and the other, a blackhearted killer—
Click.
To all our surprise, we stared down at the sixth key I’d slid into the fish lock, now hanging open.
“There isn’t time to gape.” Maewol shouldered the door open and gestured at the other three. “Quick.”
The girls hurried out, following Maewol and me to the boat. It was only when we arrived that I realized it was long and wide enough to carry only three people. I tried to think of what to do, but my sister was quicker.
“I’ll take Bohui and Mari first, since Bohui is the eldest and can keep Mari calm and hidden,” Maewol said, reminding me of the wild pony that she was, always so surefooted no matter how rough the hills and violent the gales. “Then I’ll take my sister and Kyoungja.”
We nodded. I passed the lantern off to her, and as Maewol rowed across the clear lake, she took the light with her. Soon, Kyoungja and I were left in such a deep darkness that I couldn’t even see my hands or feet. I felt like a spirit floating in oblivion.
“They’ll be coming soon.” Kyoungja’s voice loomed in the darkness somewhere, a bare whisper. “The servants.”
“What do you mean?”
“They always come around this time … when my stomach is growling. They bring an entire feast for us.”
I remembered the smell of food filling the kitchen courtyard. An empty courtyard, and something about it unsettled me.
“We were fed so well,” Kyoungja continued. “Usually, the servants never speak to us. But one of them once told us to eat everything, that our meals would promote fertility and youthfulness. I didn’t know what she’d meant, and I still think about it now and then.”
I grimaced, feeling sick to my stomach. These girls were being fattened like pigs before a feast … For whom? I wondered, tapping my finger against the sword handle. Then understanding slid into me.
A feast that would take place in the kingdom of Ming.
Shrill noises rang in my head, the sound of pieces connecting into a terrible truth. Boksun, the victim who’d escaped, had shared that her captor intended to take her to Ming. Kyoungja, Mari, Bohui, and the other girls before them had all been kept to be used as tributes. Lady Moon had managed to escape this fate, but how had her escape led to this—to her father capturing and sending even more stolen tribute girls? For what end? Was it the greed for money that drove him?
Before I could ask Kyoungja more questions, I saw a glow of yellow—a speck at first, then a stretch of light that shimmered across the lake and against the cavern walls. Maewol had returned.
Even though we were floating on the middle of a lake deep under the earth, I knew we were so close to safety I could taste the fresh air and the honey-sweet sunlight.
Kyoungja, however, did not seem as hopeful.
“There is a terrifying legend about a cave nearby. It’s haunted me since my arrival here.” A tremor had snuck into her voice. “A long-ago magistrate once battled a giant human-devouring serpent.” She glanced up at the looming darkness and shuddered, as though she’d see snake scales stretching above her. “I fear the giant serpent awaits us.”
“We will be all right,” I said, my voice firm. “Once we cross the lake, we’ll only have to travel a little bit more down the cave, up a staircase, then out the opening. We are very close to freedom, Kyoungja-ya.”
After escaping the cave, we could run into the dense forest and let the thousands of trees hide us. All these thoughts strengthened my arms as I plunged the oar through the waters—I’d offered to row Kyoungja and my exhausted sister to the other side.
“We should travel to Jejumok, where Inspector Yu is.” I wiped the sweat from my brows with a forearm. “It will be the safest there.”
When we finally reached the other side, I carried Father’s jukjangdo while Maewol raised the lamp high enough for the light to circle around the three of us. We kept close as we rushed to where my sister had left Bohui and Mari. They were still there, huddled in a shadowy corner, yet they looked ill and their eyes were too round.
“What is it?” Maewol asked. “What’s the—”
Bohui’s hand snatched my sister’s wrist. With the other hand, she placed a finger over her lips. Shh.
We remained still, the five of us, and all I could hear was the dripping of water and our shallow breaths. I could even hear—or perhaps I was imagining it—our hearts pounding hard against our rib cages.
Time passed by and I wondered if the two girls had imagined the sound.
Then we heard it. Footsteps.
Mari crumpled against the wall, nearly letting out a whimper if not for Maewol’s hand clamped over her lips. Bohui and Kyoungja linked arms, standing shoulder to shoulder. I turned to them, and under my breath, so quiet that I was mouthing the words more than I was speaking them, I said, “Everyone hold hands and do not make a sound. If he passes us by, I’ll tug, and we’ll find our way to the entrance without light.” I quickly leaned forward and blew out the lantern.
The footsteps neared, heels scratching over the grimy floor. I squeezed my eyes shut as panic trickled into me like cold water, rising and rising until it filled the hilt of my throat. The footsteps drew even closer. With one hand, I gripped the jukjangdo handle so hard my knuckles ached, and with the other, I clung to whoever’s hand I was holding, and her fingers dug into mine, cold and shaking.
Please, please, please pass us by.
The darkness behind my eyelids illuminated yellow. I opened my eyes slowly, praying that it was Inspector Yu. I blinked against the bright torchlight, and when my eyes adjusted on a face, panic choked me.
In the torchlight, a familiar face stared at me. Chiseled cheekbones and dark, intense eyes. Black hair tied into a topknot, a silver pin gleaming through it. The fatherly warmth I remembered was gone, like paint wiped away, revealing an emotionless and stony slate. His lips were set in a straight line, without a hint of either pleasure or displeasure curving the corners. His eyes, too, were impossible to read—staring and blank.
Village Elder Moon stood tall, one hand on the hilt of his sword, hanging from a sash belt. The other hand held the torch, its light dancing across his shadowy face.
Evil.
Now I realized why I’d so struggled to understand this man. It was because I’d imagined evil as being made of horns, spikes, and sharp teeth, not glowing with the appearance of goodness and respectability. Sometimes, Father’s words whispered into my left ear, good things turn out to be counterfeit. Village Elder Moon’s kindness, as genuine as it might have been, was as cheap as brass painted gold.
“You walk the path of your father,” he said, his voice as empty as his expression. “You have chosen to die.”
“You p-poisoned him,” I stammered.
“Because I hoped to give him a kinder end. But the arsenic wouldn’t work fast enough.”
Tears burned in my eyes as Father died all over again in my mind. Pain ripping his spine apart, stabbing at his chest, the poison soaking into his blood so that even in death his body had failed to disintegrate peacefully into the earth.
“So you had your minion Convict Baek stab him.”
He expelled a breath. “The only thing Convict Baek did was lead the girls to Yeonhadang.”
I felt the air sucked out of me.
“You stabbed my father?” Maewol demanded.
I blinked at his admission by silence, my mind spinning.
“And Seohyun,” Maewol continued, “she was murdered … by you?”
My head shook. “No … no, that cannot be. Convict Baek was seen. The masked man was seen in the forest—”
“I lend Convict Baek the mask when he is tasked with bringing the girls to me. But other times…” Village Elder Moon reached behind his head and pulled the mask over his face, held in place by a string. I took a step back, tripped over a protruding surface, and ended up sitting on the floor as Father’s jukjangdo clattered down next to me. The bamboo gleamed orange in the torchlight, catching the village elder’s gaze, but after a moment of staring at it, he looked away. To him, it was only a cane.
“Seohyun found her way to this cave,” he continued in a dead and cold voice. “She meant to come for my life but ended up leaving with my secret. I had to silence her. And so I wore the mask. With a mask, you can be and do anything you desire, even send police investigations into chaos. That is why your father took so long. He thought the Mask was one man, but it was two.”
The masked man in the forest five years ago, and the one behind Father’s death … It had always been none other than Village Elder Moon.
“It’s not right,” I rasped. “It’s not right, what you did.”
His onyx-black robe rustled as he crouched. The white mask loomed before me, smiling with its eyes closed. I opened my mouth, wanting to scream, but I couldn’t. It seemed none of us could, choked with terror, for not a word was uttered.
I flinched as he reached out. With a finger, he tilted my chin up. “What is right to you, Hwani-yah,” he whispered from behind the smiling red lips, “is not right for all.”
I shuddered under the awful gentleness of his touch.
“The day the emissary came, I told him who I was, that I belonged to the Nampyeong Moon clan, that I was the village elder. He and his soldiers laughed at me.” His touch withdrew, and resting his hands on his knees, he fell still—so still it was as though a real face did not exist behind the mask. Then the flicker of torchlight illuminated just a bit, the eyehole carved into the mask, dark pupils watched the girls behind me. The slightest note of distaste soaked his voice. “They dared to call me a country bumpkin. I never felt so powerless. And I never forget a slight.”
“So the girls that are now missing…,” Maewol said quietly. “The other ten girls … No, Hyunok was found dead, so that leaves nine girls remaining … they’re gone?”
“I made a deal with another envoy, Emissary Lee: Should he receive a bribe from a high-ranking father and require a replacement girl, I would provide one. I would keep the exchange secret, on one condition—that the officials show favor should my daughter be selected as a candidate.”
“Why are you telling us this?” I whispered.
“Because I owe you and your sister a confession, and I know you will carry it to your graves.” He rose to his feet, then unhooked the sword from the scabbard. A glimpse of the blade glowed bright like the embers of a burning fire. “My daughter and I have too much to lose for anything to go wrong.”
Fear prickled through me as I slowly rose to my feet. The end of our lives flashed through my mind: five bloody corpses buried in the cave, and with us, the entire truth. I flinched as someone’s hand touched mine, but it was only my sister.
Maewol. My heart twisted into an aching knot as her fingers entwined with mine. I held her tight, palm pressed against palm. She was my sister, my little sister.
Maewol raised her chin at an angle that said, I am not afraid. Yet her voice shook as she said, “You would kill us to take what you w-want … But is wh-what you desire worth that much blood on your hands?”
“Is it worth it, you ask?” the village elder said softly. “My daughter has made it to the last round of the princess-selection process. Our family leaves for the capital this month to start a new life, and Chaewon will live in a pavilion outside the palace, to be tutored by palace maidens…”
His words barely registered as cold sweat dripped into my eye. I blinked it away as I looked around. The torchlight only illuminated so much. A portion of the cavern wall. The lumpy black floor. The tips of stalactites dripping down from the ceiling. The shimmering surface of the black lake, four paces away. The bamboo walking cane lying innocently next to my feet. I’d forgotten all about it in my terror.
“… the high officials who owe me favors, they put in a good word for my daughter.” His blade rushed out in a high-pitched ring. The girls huddled closer to the cavern wall. I stood still, my grip over Maewol’s hand loosening until it was empty. “I will soon become the father of a crown princess. And without you five, there will be no one to talk of my crime.” He turned the blade, as though observing the way our frightened faces reflected on it.
“Y-you will have ended the lives of not only five,” Maewol said, “but s-sixteen girls.”
“What is that sixteen compared to the number of girls taken by the Joseon government? Every three years they capture girls to send as tribute to the Ming court. Hundreds of them. Girls disappear every day. They are sacrificed for a greater good.”
I moved my feet by a hairsbreadth until I could feel Father’s jukjangdo. But I knew that any attempts to wield this sword would likely end in me skewered by Village Elder Moon’s blade. I returned my gaze to the lake, watching it from the corner of my eye. Perhaps we could make it back to the boat and cross to the other side, where he couldn’t reach us …
“Who determines wh-who should and should not be sacrificed?” Maewol said, while taking in shallow gulps of air. “It’s monsters like y-you who make it a curse to be born a w-w-woman.”
“You have spoken enough.” Village Elder Moon must have noticed my eyes on the lake, for he took a few steps around us, blocking our way to it. He held the torch high, its light flickering across the faces of all five of us, sending another flash through my mind of our impending doom.
Blood pooling the cavern floor. Wounds gaping open. Lifeless, staring eyes.
“Do not look so frightened,” he whispered as his gaze settled on Maewol, the strongest among us all.
No, no, no. The word pounded in my ears as he angled his sword, as my little sister slowly crossed her wrists before her, knowing that death was imminent. “Dying is what each person must endure once.”
The blade drew back, ready to strike.
I darted to the ground, grabbed the jukjangdo handle and the blade came flashing out. Village Elder Moon’s eyes widened, caught off guard, as our blades clashed. His sword went flying out of his unprepared grip, clattering and skidding into the shadows.
I tried wielding the jukjangdo again, but he whirled away, and my blade struck a rock, the impact of it wrenching the hilt out of my grip. I didn’t have time to scramble for my sword, not while Village Elder Moon was striding over to his blade, which gleamed in the light of his torch.
I knew we would all die if he reached it.
“The jukjangdo,” I gasped at Maewol. “Find it and use it if you must!”
With that, I charged forward and crashed into the village elder’s back. We both lost our balance. The torchlight hissed into the water as I stumbled with him. We pitched forward, my feet leaving the ground, my hair dancing over my face—
I don’t want to die anymore.
I closed my eyes, tightening my grip on the village elder. I’d once made a will, wanting nothing to do with a life so desolate without Father.
Now what I wanted more than anything was to see the faces of family reuniting with the three found girls.
I want to stay.
Water exploded around me.
The shock of its icy embrace shot straight into my heart. I couldn’t breathe, overwhelmed by the salty cold, overwhelmed by the absolute darkness. I couldn’t see the surface or the bottom, I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel the village elder’s hands. They pulled and dug into me, trying to pry himself free.
With all my strength, I continued to cling to the village elder’s robe as we thrashed in a blackness that seemed to leak through my eyes, surging fear into my soul. The village elder’s hands, too, turned desperate. Fingers grappling for anything, grabbing strands of my hair, wrapping tight around my throat as I struggled to hold on. My limbs felt numb and frozen, about to shatter as the cold deepened.
I cannot die.
I will not die.
A dizzying lightness clouded my head, and exhaustion sank into me, into the tips of my fingers. My grip slackened. The village elder’s violent touch withdrew, the sensation of his robe billowing against me vanishing. Water rippled as he pushed away. Then there was stillness as I floated in the black void.
I cannot die.
I will not die.
I reached out, but my arms wouldn’t move, wouldn’t strike outward to push me up from the depths. They remained motionless, floating in the still water, long strands of my hair curling around them. My head grew so light that I imagined a circle of glowing light above. The circle moved from side to side.
My eyes felt heavy as a calmness settled over me.
There had to be a bottom to this lake.
Perhaps once I reached it, I could curl up and fall asleep.
I blinked against the tiredness, watching as the circle suddenly stopped and remained, like it was staring down at me. Orange bubbles erupted. Slowly, a shadowy outline appeared, nearing me. The blur of white fabric unfurled, and the flash of hands filled my vision. Then I felt myself being lifted upward, gliding through the water.
A heave, and I was on my back. On dry land. At once my lungs grabbed for air, through the pain tearing at my chest, through the sharp shards of water rattling in my lungs. A firm hand sat me up and struck my back, once, twice, until breathing became easier. It was only then that I noticed Maewol, who was soaking wet, her long hair dripping and her eyes wide. Bohui, Kyoungja, and Mari hovered behind my sister, wringing their hands. And there were others.
My mind jolted awake.
Others?
There were three men uniformed in black robes, and the sight of the fourth washed me with relief: Inspector Yu. We were safe at last. Yet, even as I thought this, I found myself surveying each face, each dark corner. Where had Village Elder Moon gone?
My mind continued to drown in this question as the people around me spoke in low murmurs. Their voices sounded like garbles underwater, but then Maewol touched my hand, and the sensation of her small fingers unclogged my ears.
“We ran here as soon as we heard screaming,” Inspector Yu said, his voice crisp.
“It was me. I was screaming,” Mari said. “When you fell into the water.”
It felt like the black water of the lake was still trickling into my lungs, filling me with cold. “You did not see the village elder?”
We all stared at the lake.
“I’ll have my men search this cave for him. But perhaps he drowned.”
Perhaps … I pushed my wet hair away from my face. “How did you get here?”
“Gahee rode over to me, informing me where I might find you. She told me Maewol had sent a note but I never received it. And then there was Lady Moon, she directed us here.” He let out a breath of disbelief. “My men are searching through the rest of the compound right now.”
Shivering, we all made our way down the cave, following Inspector Yu, who was holding the torch. The other torch-bearing soldiers stayed to search for the village elder, and I glanced over my shoulder, watching the flicker of their firelight growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Something felt wrong.
“I don’t think he drowned,” I whispered. “What if he managed to escape—”
A guttural cry echoed.
We froze.
“Gods,” Maewol whispered. “What was that?”
Inspector Yu glanced up, frowning. “It came from outside.”
Dread plummeted down into my stomach. I immediately thought of the girl who could not sleep at night, haunted by the ghosts of her father’s victims, the girl who had let me escape the furnace-hot library.
Before I knew it, I was running.
Footsteps followed behind, and soon Inspector Yu and Maewol were hurrying alongside me. We ran up the moss-covered stone steps and crawled past the covering out into the open sky. The sheer brightness of the day stunned me to a halt. Raising a hand over my eyes, I squinted around, and slowly my vision adjusted.
There was a trail of water staining the courtyard ground, deepening the light dirt into dark brown. Strength drained from me as we followed the trail into the next courtyard and up the terrace toward the chamber where I’d last seen Lady Moon.
My steps slowed, almost as though something in me wanted to turn and leave. To never have to witness what lay beyond; I had seen too much for one lifetime.
I stopped before the double doors of the room. They had been slightly parted when I’d first glanced in earlier today, but someone had slid them wide open. I looked up, with the same slowness that had dragged at my steps, and followed the watery footprints.
Past the silk floor mat. Past a teabowl flipped on the ground. Past the low-legged table … where a white powdery substance lay scattered like salt.
Village Elder Moon sat on the ground, hunched over, water dripping from the strands of his loosened hair and beard down onto his daughter, who lay on his lap. Her arm was stretched across the floor, palm out, fingers still and unmoving.
His mask must have fallen off in the lake, baring now the emotions engraved into the lines of his face. He touched her cheek. “Wake up, Chaewon-ah.” He shook her shoulder. “Chaewon-ah. Do not be angry with me. I did this all for you.”
In a daze, I wandered in and lowered my stare to the floor; it was scorching hot. A few steps more, and I reached the teabowl. I didn’t even need to draw it to my nose to pick up on a strong herbal scent.
Like the warm herbal drink, mixed with arsenic, that I had been served in the library.
I glanced back up at Lady Moon, lying motionless, a sheen of blood coating her mouth. The truth struck me so hard the bowl slipped from my hand.
Lady Moon had poisoned herself.
Everything was a blur after that. Of soldiers rushing in, ropes being tossed, arms being twisted back and tied in rough motions. Of silk, of blood, of Lady Moon’s staring eyes. And of her father’s fragile voice, still calling her name, as though expecting her to wake up. But she was gone. Her father’s own darkness had taken the very life he’d cherished.
“Chaewon-ah.” His voice reached out for her and stroked her pale cheeks, for his hands could not, tied as they were. “Abeoji came back for you. Chaewon-ah.”
Was this justice?
The daze clouding my head wouldn’t leave as I sat on the burning floor, sweat and lake water streaming down my face. I pressed the base of my palm against my chest, massaging the ache pounding under my ribs. Everything still ached. The cracks still gaped wide, cold wind blowing through. The lost were still lost. The dead, unrestored.
I didn’t realize how much time had passed until Maewol touched my shoulder. She offered her arm, helping me to my feet. We stood still, watching as the soldiers hoisted Lady Moon’s body onto a wooden stretcher. A straw mat was pulled over her. All that was left to see were her fingernails, stained a faint orange color.
“Bongseonhwa,” Maewol whispered.
I stared closer at the stained nails. Maewol was right. Lady Moon must have collected bongseonhwa flowers, to pound and turn into the paste children would use to dye their nails, and hope the stain would last until winter—for if it did, it was said that one’s true love would arrive with the first snow.
My shoulders slumped forward, feeling beaten to the ground. Lady Moon—Chaewon—she had just been a girl, like the rest of us. Maewol, too, looked defeated. When a single tear dribbled down her cheek, she quickly wiped it with the back of her sleeve. “Why does it feel like this?” her voice rasped. “Like we’ve lost?”
A shadow stretched out next to us. Inspector Yu stood there, the wide brim of his black hat casting a shadow over his face as he stared at the straw-covered corpse. “We lose every day. That is part of this line of work.” He glanced down at us. “The work of fulfilling our obligations to others. We save some, but we lose most. This is not a novel situation.”
I shook my head, not feeling any better. Now I understood Magistrate Hong. It was this, the sheer exhaustion and horror of failing to save lives—it dimmed our eyes, drained us of our strength, hollowed out our bones.
“But there are two types of people,” Inspector Yu added, his voice quiet. “Those that retreat and huddle together like frightened birds, overwhelmed by the darkness of this kingdom, and those that grasp their freedom to struggle on the behalf of others, their eyes fixed on a great light that will always shine for those who seek it.” He flipped back his robe and crouched on the floor. Picking up Chaewon’s teabowl, he slipped it into a sack—collecting evidence.
“Pull yourselves together, Min Hwani, Min Maewol,” he said, not unkindly. “We need to bring the girls you’ve found back to their homes. Family is waiting for them.”