I bowed again for good measure, even as his smooth, silvery voice said: “I know who you are.”
How?I couldn’t help thinking, but knew better than to say out loud. I didn’t like the idea of a powerful descendant like him knowing anything about me. He could squish me like a grape if he was having a bad day.
“All neutralizations require his explicit approval,” Hyebin explained.
That means that he approved Hana’s neutralization, I realized,going very still. Hong Gildong glanced over his shoulder at me suddenly, as if he could sense my racing pulse. I was standing in an elevator with someone who had known my sister and destroyed her.
Hong Gildong’s piercing gaze was the only thing forcing me to stay still, to take steadying breaths, to try to calm my racing heartbeat. The elevator felt impossibly warm, my vision sparkling gold at the edges from the sudden surge of adrenaline. I glared at my reflection in the mirrored wall, unsure how I still looked like a normal high school girl when inside I felt like a burning city.
Hong Gildong turned back to the elevator doors, and I let out a breath. He nodded at two high-level agents who ran to catch up. I’d seen both of them in the scrying room before but couldn’t remember their names. They bowed and slid into place on either side of Hong Gildong.
“It’s time,” Hong Gildong said.
Wordlessly, Hyebin pulled her arm back, and the elevator doors slid closed. She grabbed my hand and reached for the hand of the agent in front of her. They all held hands, except for Hong Gildong—the agent nearest him laid a gentle hand on his forearm.
Hyebin had told me that taking someone’s arm instead of their hand when sharing time magic was a sign of respect, and that I should never offer someone my arm unless my hands had literally been chopped off (and even then I should apologize profusely). But of course someone like Hong Gildong commanded that kind of respect. I couldn’t really imagine him holding hands with a subordinate. Hong Gildong pulled out his yeouiju, and the elevator began to glow.
Light speared through my body.
I had only ever felt Hyebin’s time magic before, so I’d never realized that anyone else’s would feel different. But while Hyebin’s magic felt like stepping into a sauna, Hong Gildong’s felt like being flayed by the sun.
Centuries rushed through me in a single breath—I tasted glimpsesof the dawn of Korea, golden palaces, dragons circling the moon in fluid arcs, starlight on my tongue, fire at my fingertips. Then I was crushed into the dirt of a world at war, blood and silt breathing me in. I was the skeleton of a city climbing with glass hands into the sky, black ribbons of road unfurling across dirt, nauseous voyages to sea, wordless secrets and broken bones and bright, blazing gold beneath it all.
The magic flashed in front of me like a passing train and then disappeared, leaving me breathless and squeezing the life out of Hyebin’s hand.
I barely registered the sound of the elevator doors opening.
Hyebin nudged me, and my legs moved automatically to follow the other descendants, but I couldn’t even feel my feet. I stumbled after them into a mall, squinting under the fluorescent light. I could hardly remember what year we were in, what year we’d come from, what we were doing here, as if I’d lived a thousand lifetimes in the single breath that Hong Gildong’s magic had run through me.
The other descendants moved in silence toward the exit. They glinted between customers like minnows, smoothly evading humans so no one would be forced to move to avoid us, which would impact the timeline. I focused all my energy on blending in with the other descendants, minding each footstep as if dancing an intricate ballet, just as Hyebin had taught me. I couldn’t imagine the shame if I tripped into a human in front of Hong Gildong, who would surely never promote me if I couldn’t do something as simple aswalk.
The automatic doors slid open, and we stepped into the night.
The crowd on the sidewalk flowed faster than the elderly Emart shoppers inside, so I had to focus more intently on avoiding humans while staying as close to Hyebin as possible. I followed her around a few sharp corners until we drew to a stop in front of a caféwith flower garlands in the window. Several customers sat at the outdoor tables, where strands of fairy lights illuminated their ceramic plates of pastries and steaming cups of coffee.
I knew right away which person was our target.
There was only one woman sitting alone. Surely the descendants wouldn’t grab someone off the street in front of their spouse or friends, so it had to be her. She was wearing a green summer dress, her auburn hair tied in a ponytail. Her back was turned to us, but I could see her reflection in the window of the caféas she carefully tore off a piece of croissant, then adjusted the shopping bags at her feet.
I imagined Hana sitting down to eat a croissant and ending up dead before she could finish it. My headache returned, and my throat tightened with nausea.
All three descendants turned to Hong Gildong, who checked his watch, then nodded.
The two high-level descendants shot forward.
Before I could blink, each of them grabbed one of the woman’s arms. One of them clapped a hand over the woman’s mouth, sweeping her into the alley. They’d moved like a passing shadow, so fast that no one on the street so much as turned to look. Hyebin swooped in and cleared the table, snatched the bags, and shoved the chair back in place. In the blink of an eye, it was as if the woman hadn’t been there at all.
I tensed when I realized even Hong Gildong was gone, and I was standing alone in front of the café. I hurried into the alley, barely catching Hyebin’s glare as she waved for me to hurry up. The descendants dragged the writhing woman into a building, and I slipped inside behind them.
“Lock the door,” Hyebin said over her shoulder.
I bolted the door, sealing us in an office space filled with drab furniture and pale carpets. The other two descendants kicked rolling tables and chairs out of the way and pressed the woman to the floor, finally releasing the gloved hand from her mouth. The woman had wide honey-brown eyes and pink lipstick smeared on her cheek, herauburn hair falling loose from a silk hair tie. She gripped a descendant’s wrist with a thin hand, a loose engagement ring sliding up and down her finger.
Hong Gildong took a step forward, crossing his arms.
“Sajangnim?” the woman said as his shadow fell over her. “What’s going on?”
“Oh Jia,” Hong Gildong said, no longer using the cool and indifferent tone he’d had in the elevator. Now his words echoed as if spoken into a deep cavern, so low that they hummed through the floor and vibrated in my bones. Hyebin had told me that long ago, dragons could cause earthquakes with their harsh words.
