Dreamslinger, page 14
Soon, aunties and uncles were swarming around them like bees. One took it upon herself to teach Aria some basic Korean, gifting her a pack of vocabulary flash cards she used at the local school. Another gifted Aria some beaconsap, which he explained was a type of sticky tree sap from the Asleep. As long as you had a beaconmap made from the pulp of the same tree (which he also gifted her), you could track the sap’s whereabouts in real time. As a private investigator, he used them often for tracking people.
Aria was having so much fun that it took her a while to realize Tui was missing.
“Hey, Lion, did you see where Tui went?”
“No, I thought she was with you?”
They eventually found her outside, hiding between the earthenware pots of fermenting sauces, snuggling with Tweak.
“What happened?” Aria demanded. “Are you hurt? Are you all right?” It was unsettling to see the unwavering Tui hiding in the shadows like this.
Tui startled as she looked up at them standing over her. “Yeah, nah, I’m sweet as.”
Aria and Lion shared a look.
“Snort?” Aria probed.
“Roar?” Lion encouraged.
Tui bit her lip. “Geez, way to invoke the sacred zoo animals on me.” She blinked rapidly as her eyes reddened. She exhaled deeply. “Okay, fine. If you must know, the truth is that I’m homesick and I’m overwhelmed, and the pressure is all starting to get to me.”
Aria and Lion gave her space to continue.
“I know I always put on a strong face, and don’t get me wrong—normally, I am strong. But today, coming here, it just hit me like a ton of bricks. I miss my whānau—like, really miss them. My mum, my dad, my sister, all my aunties and uncles, especially Paea and Colin, and all my cousins.” She sniffled and pointed to her chest. “I’m homesick and it physically hurts. Here.”
Aria clutched the bow of her jeogori as her eyes stung with tears and thoughts of her dad flooded over her. What she’d give to play one of her dad’s boring domino games right now. Apparently, homesickness was contagious, and she took a few grounding breaths to recenter herself.
“It’s a lot to have all these people counting on you, you know?” Tui continued, rubbing her eyes. “My community, they’re all expecting me to return armed with experience and knowledge, and to give back to our own dreamslinger whānau. It’s an honor to have their faith and trust in me.” She exhaled. “But sometimes, I think they forget I’m only fourteen.”
“Wow, Tui,” Aria breathed. “I didn’t know. That’s a lot of pressure.”
“And sometimes, I’m not sure if I’m cut out for all of this.” Tui sighed as more tears welled in her eyes. “A real leader doesn’t get all mopey because she’s homesick.”
“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with crying,” Lion murmured, as Tweak nestled her huge head in Tui’s lap. “It shows you care. Besides, it takes strength to be vulnerable.”
Driver Nam appeared then with a bounty of bright neon Band-Aids in his hands. He cleared his throat and smiled warmly. “Sorry for eavesdropping on your conversation, but I thought these might be useful right now.”
He unwrapped a bright pink one and stuck it on Tui’s hand. “Sometimes you need a physical reminder that what you’re feeling is real. Homesickness is no different than a cut or bruise. Seeing it in front of your eyes and acknowledging that it hurts can help you start to feel better.”
Tui ran her fingers over the neon Band-Aid. “Can I have a few more? Maybe yellow and green. Blue and purple, too, if you have it?”
Lion chuckled. “It wouldn’t be Tui if it wasn’t rainbow.”
Driver Nam obliged, then slapped an extra one on Tweak for good measure. “Listen to me. Family aren’t just the people we are born into. Family are also those we find in life, and those who find us. And sometimes, those bonds can be even stronger, more enduring, because they’re made by choice.”
He looked between Tui, Lion, and Aria with genuine warmth in his eyes. “There is nothing more precious than a bond created from your own free will. Like the one you three share. And the one you are now forging with us.” He clapped. “And to celebrate this milestone, from this day forth, I invite you to call me Nam Samchon!”
“Nam Samchon,” Tui said. “Uncle Nam. I like the sound of that.”
Aria did, too.
“Then you must call us by our first names,” Lion demanded. “It’s only fair.”
Driver Na—no, Nam Samchon’s brows hiked on his forehead, but he quickly recovered. “If that’s what you wish, Lion!” he said heartily.
Saemi came by then with Rio and Echo tailing her like oversize baby ducklings. “That means you’re my eonni!” she said to Aria.
“That means big sister in Korean,” Lion explained.
“Naturally,” Aria laughed, and felt a warmth spread through her chest.
After lunch, before heading home, Aria decided she’d ask Nam Samchon about Ko Iseul, just in case he knew something of interest. But he only looked confused at the question.
“As your newly minted samchon, I’m sorry I don’t know more, Aria-ya. I only know that she was the mudang’s older sister who died in the Great Tragedy.” He nudged her playfully. “But why are you asking about dead people, ng? There’s enough happening in the land of the living without needing to dig up the souls of the departed.”
He had a point. This whole Ko Iseul thread could be a total red herring, and Aria could be wasting her time pursuing it. But she couldn’t ignore the feeling in her gut. There was something about Ko Iseul that wouldn’t let her go. Besides, the commissioner may have let her insufficient report slide this time—she assumed she would’ve been sent home already otherwise. But she knew he wouldn’t be so lenient next time.
If Aria really wanted answers about Ko Iseul, there was one person in the kingdom who definitely would know about her.
Her sister.
But how was she going to get through to the prickly mudang? She scowled. She’d have to come up with a plan.
Later that evening, the forty trialeers gathered for dinner at the banquet hall. Aria chose her dad’s mayo-drenched tuna and rice bake from the Mood Menu and relaxed into her floating chair, grateful for how the trip to Nam Samchon’s house had evened out her mood. She listened in on nearby conversations, enjoying the chatter as Rio, Echo, and Tweak played chase around the hall.
Daxia and Misha were exchanging drink recommendations (Daxia advocating for bubble teas, and Misha a Chilean drink called chirimoya alegre—a mix of custard apple and orange juice), while Rihaan Munro, in a pleather beret and kilt, was passionately telling Niko, Adebamgbe, and Blessica about the similarities between haggis and soondae.
Hakan, Estevão, and two heritage trialeers—Susan Grace-Oh and Sarah-Jess Baek—were playing a card game over dinner, while Zahra braided a friendship bracelet for Tui that spelled out the word impossible with special lettered beads. A German Italian trialeer called Vittoria Schneider even regaled everyone with a song, as Mason accompanied on the guitar, and Tiare played a large skin drum called a pa’u. Jaxon Campbell, the Australian trialeer, tried his best to join in too, by jiggling a salt shaker to the beat.
Aria was busy enjoying the scene when she overheard some raucous heritage kids at the back of the banquet hall taking bets on something. She heard snippets of words—one of which sounded like… chew sock…
She frowned at Lion between mouthfuls of tuna and rice. “Please tell me I’m missing something. Why are they so excited about chewing socks?”
He stifled a laugh. “Not chew-sock. Tomorrow’s Chuseok—Korean Thanksgiving. It’s one of the biggest events on the kingdom’s calendar. Essentially a whole day full of food and games and competitions. We even get a break from training.”
Aria’s heart leapt excitedly. Well, that was a reason to celebrate.
Eugene Cho-Fisher, a tall, freckled heritage trialeer who was Jina Jeong’s number one henchman, shouted something from the back of the hall in Korean. It didn’t sound very friendly.
Lion made a face. “It’s also when rivalries between the four gajok get a bit ugly.”
“Oh really?” Tui asked, curious.
Zahra tied the completed friendship bracelet on Tui’s wrist. “Because of the Battlejoy match, right? I heard the biggest match of the year happens on Chuseok.”
“Battlejoy…” Aria murmured, the name ringing a bell.
“It’s our national sport,” Lion confirmed. “It’s when Fellows compete in the ring against each other by battling their nightjoys—hence Battlejoy. It’s a game of agility, strategy, but most importantly, of one’s bond with their dreampanion.”
Aria remembered where she’d seen it now. The Royal Gazette had featured the highlights and scores of the games.
“Anyway,” Lion continued. “It just so happens that Jina’s older brother is kinda awesome at it.”
Aria groaned. “Of course he is.”
As if hearing their conversation, Jina’s imposing voice echoed down the hall. “No, my brother will be champion! Everyone who’s anyone knows that Summer Palace is the shoo-in for Chuseok Champion this year.”
Another heritage trialeer called Joonho Kang in a snowflake cape crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, my sister beat your brother in the qualifiers last week, so there!”
Lion shook his head as if embarrassed by his heritage peers. “You’ll experience the full mayhem of Battlejoy tomorrow. I won’t ruin the surprise.”
The banquet hall erupted into a heated discussion that continued well past dinnertime, until the four palace matrons shooed everyone back to their bedchambers. Chuseok would start at the break of dawn tomorrow with jesa—the thanksgiving rite—and trialeers would be expected to be punctual.
“Does the mudang watch the game?” Aria asked Lion on the trek back to Spring Palace.
“Yeah, she’s not a big fan of the sport—it’s supposedly a sore reminder that she wasn’t born with the dreamslinger gene—but she sits in the royal box with the king every game out of duty, anyway.”
“And are trialeers allowed to sit near the box?” Aria probed.
He nodded. “Sure, but why you’d want to sit near those tight-laced old fuddy-duddies is a mystery to me.”
Aria gave him a funny look. She didn’t realize that was how he felt about the king and the Royal Mudang. But she promptly dismissed it, because she had finally found her in. She’d make sure to sit near the mudang tomorrow. Then she’d take any opportunity to grab the mudang’s attention and draw out as much information about Ko Iseul as she could.
Aria smiled. It was a long shot, but it might just work.
Then why, she wondered as she lay in bed that night, was she recalling a word from her mom’s journal?
CHEROPHOBIA (Noun) (Greek origin): The fear that everything seems too good to be true, and that disaster might be lurking around the corner.
She tried to bat the feeling away as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
ARIA YAWNED AS JUNGHEE HELPED her into one of her experimental hanbok designs. It was still dark outside.
“I dyed it with phantomsap,” Junghee explained, “which should grant you short-term invisibility. Go on, give it a go.”
Aria looked at herself in the mirror as she repeated the finger-tapping motion on her chima, just like Junghee had taught her. Immediately, her body from her neck down disappeared completely.
“I look like a floating head!” Aria shrieked, utterly delighted, which even aroused Rio from her sleep. “I’m assuming you wanted the head to disappear, too, but this would actually make the best Halloween costume. And it’s already October, so great timing.”
Junghee grunted. “It’s not a costume, it’s couture! Besides, we don’t observe Halloween. We celebrate Dongji, which is in December.” She turned her attention to Aria’s hair, skilfully braiding it into one long plait, weaving a thick silk ribbon through it. The whole time, she mumbled to herself about needing to change the centrifugal processes that affect the viscosity and coagulation of the something or other…
By the time they jumped out of their gama (which was covered in brightly colored Lycra and blaring workout music as if it were an ancient aerobics instructor from the 1980s), King’s Square was bustling with energy. The whole kingdom seemed to be in the cobbled square, milling about under the illuminated Victorian streetlamps. As everyone waited for the jesa to begin, all eyes were on the main altar at the heart of the square, which bore a holographic rendering of the Holy Trine.
Aria, Rio, and Junghee joined the rest of the Spring Palace gajok, just as the king, the mudang, and the four scholars took their place beside the altar.
“That’s Grandma Samshin, the Goddess of Birth,” Junghee whispered as she nodded toward the icon of the old woman with her eyes gazing upward. “She’s the one who decides who gets born, when they’re born, and to whom.”
She pointed to the second statue of the old man whose eyes were looking down. “And that’s Gardener Igong, the God of Death. As the name suggests, he’s the one who decides how and when we die.”
“What about the third one?” Aria whispered back, staring at the last figure on the altar—the small child with her eyes closed shut.
“The last of the Holy Trine is Princess Bari, the Goddess of Dead Souls. She’s the one responsible for guiding spirits through the afterlife so they can be reincarnated into their new lives.”
“Reincarnated like the Knotmaster?” Aria asked.
Junghee nodded. “Exactly.”
As the mudang chanted and danced to the beat of the music, the king filled a ceremonial chalice with rice wine, swirling it with two hands above Grandma Samshin’s food, then Gardener Igong’s. For Princess Bari, he switched it with milk. Then he got on his knees to bow twice to each ancestor. The four scholars repeated the process, and then the mudang called the entire kingdom to bow. When Aria raised her eyes again, the altar had disappeared.
The mudang raised her billowing sleeves to the sky, which was now illuminated by the sunrise. “The jesa has concluded. May the Holy Trine—the spiritual ancestors of our kingdom—bless Royal Hanguk with another year of good fortune. I now declare Chuseok to be officially in session!”
The crowd cheered loudly, and it was only when Aria turned to find Tui and Lion that she realized the entire surrounding parklands had been transformed. Rows upon rows of open-air markets and food stalls had materialized, and special zones had been cordoned off for specific games and competitions.
“Wow!” Aria breathed as everyone dispersed to explore the sights. Even Rio’s mouth seemed to gape open.
A group of excited children rushed to the grass area where a sign said PLAY YUNNORI HERE. Aria, Tui, and Lion, accompanied by their seedlings, watched as the kids tossed four wooden yut sticks on a straw mat. How the sticks landed seemed to determine how many spaces the players could move on the board. Unfortunately, Rio attempted to eat one of the sticks, which got them quickly shooed away.
Farther along, two teenagers had begun a comical-looking competition called dakssaum (which Lion translated as chicken fighting), the aim of which was to knock your opponent to the ground while hopping on one foot and holding the other foot tucked in tight against the body. The seedlings seemed to decide this was a game worth replicating, and soon, Aria and her friends were rolling on the ground in tears.
“Is there a winning gajok for each game?” Aria asked, when she’d finally recovered from her laughing fit. She’d remembered Lion’s comment about the fierce rivalries between palaces.
Lion nodded as Tui raked up the bits of petal scales the seedlings had shed in their rough play. “Technically, all the points get added up, and one gajok gets awarded Chuseok Champion for the year.” He pointed at the lake farther down the reserve, where a huge floating boxing ring was being set up on the water. “But everyone knows the winner of the Battlejoy match basically wins the entire thing.”
The friends and seedlings bounced from game to game, flying kites, spinning tops, riding standing swings, and even jumping on gigantic wooden seesaws. When they got hungry, Lion introduced them to cinnamon-and-brown-sugar-filled pancakes called hotteok, and crescent-shaped rice cakes called songpyeon—both of which were mouthwateringly good.
It was only when Nam Samchon and Saemi tapped Aria on the shoulder that she realized almost three hours had flown by.
“If it isn’t my three favorite trialeers!” Nam Samchon boomed cheerily as Saemi buried herself in Rio’s petals for a hug. Rio wagged her stump and gave Saemi a slobbery lick, which made Aria look away.
Nam passed Aria a box of carp pastries. “I brought you some of these, courtesy of my good man Joon. They’re still warm.”
Aria beamed. “Bung-o-bbang! Thank you, Samchon!”
He ushered them toward the lake. “Now, let’s go find a spot before the match starts. I hate missing the start of the game.”
Aria studied the lakeside, looking for the king’s viewing box, which she immediately located front and center. A throne and an extra chair were cordoned off with a velvet rope and covered with a canopy.
“Let’s sit over there,” Aria suggested, striding over before anyone could argue otherwise.
They found a good spot on the grass next to the box, just as the king and mudang arrived to take their seats. The shaman scowled upon seeing Aria, which wasn’t exactly the most encouraging sign. But Aria figured she’d give the mudang a bit of time to settle in before throwing any questions her way.
“Can someone explain the rules of the match?” Tui asked as she opened a bag of shrimp crackers for the seedlings to share.
“The aim of the game is to steal the opponent’s feathers before they steal yours,” Nam Samchon explained, handing out little binoculars to everyone.
Aria looked through the lens to see two competitors on the floating stage. Both were teenagers—one from Summer Palace with his solar phoenix, and the other from Winter Palace with her frost turtle. Each competitor wore a large golden feather on a necklace, hanging low in front of their chests, as well as smaller silver feathers around their wrists and ankles, too.
