Dreamslinger, page 6
The courtyard was surrounded on all sides by shimmering gold walls, and apart from another set of gates up ahead, there was nothing here but big open space. She followed the other trialeers through the next set of gates into a second courtyard, which culminated in yet another set of gates. This time, though, they were manned by a group of stern royal guards, each carrying a bow and arrow, a sword, and a big machete-bladed staff. Aria immediately lowered her head. Talk about being overeager with the weaponry.
“Reckon they’d paint our nails if we invited them over for a sleepover?” someone asked next to her. “I’ll ask one if you dare me.”
She turned to see a girl with light brown skin and a beautiful mess of hair framing her face. She had an air of groundedness, and yet stood high and effortless, as if the world could fall but she’d still be standing.
“You…” The girl looked familiar, but Aria couldn’t quite place her. That is, until she noticed her rainbow combat boots that matched her rainbow suitcase. “Hey, you’re the girl from the airport.”
The girl gave a little upward nod. “Kia ora. I’m Tui, from New Zealand. What’s your name?”
She remembered now—the girl had calmly answered the camera crew’s questions as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“I’m Aria. From America.”
“I like your necklace, Aria from America. Eight is my favorite number, too.”
Aria pointed to Tui’s colorful boots. “Those are awesome.”
Tui grinned. “Right?”
Aria was in the middle of returning the smile when she remembered she wasn’t here to make friends. This was a competition. And she was a spy. Having friends would be an added complication she didn’t need.
“Good luck in the Trials,” she said instead, giving Tui a curt nod before walking off.
Aria lined up as the royal guards made trialeers enter the gate in two lines, despite the doorway being marked into three distinct paths. One trialeer with two instrument cases strapped across his back (Aria guessed a guitar and a violin) tried to walk down the center aisle and promptly got whacked on the butt by one of the machete staffs. Aria flinched, even though the trialeer seemed unfazed—he bowed dramatically at the guards with a mischievous grin on his face.
“Only royals walk through the center!” the royal guard barked. “Keep to the outer lanes, trialeers.”
“Don’t you think it’s weird, all the wide empty spaces here?” Tui asked from behind, seemingly unperturbed by Aria’s earlier curtness. “There’s not even a single tree.”
Aria shrugged. “Maybe they’re going for the minimalist look.”
“The palace is designed like that on purpose, actually,” a quiet voice said from Aria’s left. “This is where the king resides, and if there were bushes and trees, people could hide in them to ambush him. The palace grounds are kept empty to make sure the coast is always clear.”
They turned to see a boy dressed in traditional Korean garb, except with big fluffy earmuffs around his neck, despite the heat. Aria guessed he was mixed race of Black and Asian heritage, and thought he looked like a young John Legend.
When he noticed their stares, his face glistened with sweat and he nervously rubbed his hands on his pants. “Oh, um, I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything,” he stammered. “I just overheard you, and I thought you might like to know. I’m a Royal Hangukite, a heritage kid, as in I was born and raised in the kingdom. So this kind of stuff is second nature to me, and I… just, um—” He abruptly stopped talking. Then, putting the earmuffs over his ears, he turned on his heel and stalked off.
“Laters, mate!” Tui sang out, as they were finally let through the third set of gates. “Now, this is a royal courtyard.”
Unlike the ones before, this courtyard wasn’t empty. Guards lined its perimeter, and at its heart stood four enormous stone statues. Under the dimming night, she could make out the one facing south as a stern-looking bird, then, going clockwise, a sleek tiger, a majestic turtle, and a formidable dragon. Behind the statues was a cavernous hall, at least three stories tall and in the same traditional Korean style as the rest of the palace.
They followed the trialeers to congregate on the stairs of the hall, which had its paper doors thrown wide open. Inside, colorful wooden pillars lined the space, housing a colossal wooden throne at its core.
“It’s starting!” a nearby trialeer squealed as a gong chimed.
A spark of energy ignited behind Aria, as if someone had struck a match. When she turned to look back at the courtyard, she saw the sky was now filled with rectangular paper lanterns, floating above the statues like magical ocean buoys. As the lanterns glowed bright, hundreds of cloaked Fellows ranging from teenagers to adults began materializing beneath them. Aria’s jaw dropped.
“Look, Aria,” whispered Tui, pointing inside the hall. “King Lee Ogu is here.”
Indeed, a regal man dressed in splendiferous silk finery was now sitting on the massive wooden throne, smiling warmly at his dominion. On his left was the largest fire-tailed bird Aria had ever seen, its scrutinizing eyes fixed on the crowd. To his right was a woman with a face of heavy makeup and a scowling expression. She was dressed in a traditional robe with long, oversize sleeves that billowed with stripes of vibrant color.
“Is that the queen?” Aria asked out loud.
A tall, freckled trialeer to her right scoffed. “She’s the Royal Mudang. The king’s official shaman and his most trusted royal advisor.”
Aria frowned. “Shaman… as in people who talk to spirits and stuff? Isn’t that weird that the king would be into woo-woo stuff like that?”
“Who says it’s woo-woo?” The trialeer shrugged. “It’s not any weirder than King Charles being the head of the Church of England. The shaman’s family has been around for as long as the king’s—the role has been passed down their family line.”
Aria made a mental note of the Royal Mudang. As a trusted member of the king’s inner sanctum, she’d be a strategic person to mine later for information.
“Welcome to Royal Hanguk, trialeers!” the king boomed from his throne. “Annyeong-haseyo! My sincerest congratulations to all who have made it here this evening. Today marks an auspicious moment in history as we open up our Annual Royal Slinger Trials to worthy competitors from all over the globe. Our records show over four hundred dreamslingers arrived in Korea’s borders today. And look around you. You are all that remain.”
Aria estimated that just over a hundred trialeers were huddled on the steps. That meant three hundred dreamslingers had already been sent home, and the proper Trials hadn’t even begun.
“You may be aware that the average human sleeps for a third of their life,” the king continued. “That means by the time we’re ninety, we have spent thirty years in bed. Some might say that’s a waste of three decades, spending it unconscious to the world. But of course, we dream when we sleep. And dreaming creates immense amounts of energy.
“Across generations, the collective energy of humanity’s dreaming gave birth to an entirely new realm—the wondrous place we call the Asleep. And despite what you may have been told, I am here to tell you that the Asleep is a real place. As real as the waking world in which we currently stand.”
While this should have been shocking to Aria, his revelation made sense. How else could dreamslingers all experience the same Nightmare Circle? Plus, the soarfree wood of the gama, not to mention the dreampanions themselves, had to have come from somewhere.
“Over the years, we have discovered the most extraordinary flora and fauna in the four Seasons, whose very existence has, in turn, influenced the types of dreams people have today.” He paused, thinking. “Molarmice are a good example. Their daily teeth-shedding practice, paired with their liberal breeding habits, are why dreams of losing one’s teeth are so terribly widespread.”
Aria shuddered. She hated that dream, almost as much as the falling dream, or the one where she couldn’t find a toilet.
“Despite the entire population having contributed to the creation of the Asleep, most will never be able to enter the Seasons or reap its riches. It is only the blessed few born with our genetic gift that will have the chance to experience its wonders. And only if we can endear ourselves to our dreampanions.”
The tail on his fire bird flared as he continued. “Humans are born with a third of our souls missing. It is why we are doomed to sleep away a third of our lives. But dreampanions fill this Soul-Gap, making us profoundly whole. This is what allows royal slingers to access a full Life-Time. It is why Fellows do not require sleep.”
Aria frowned something fierce. Humans were born with a third of their souls missing? And Fellows never went to bed? Surely people here didn’t actually believe in this ludicrous League propaganda.
“Everyone here has the chance to lead a truly exceptional life. But we must remember not all the world sees our gift in the same light. We must remain extraordinarily cautious as to whom we allow into our embrace, in order to protect our own. It is why this year, we will only be inducting twenty new Novices into the second year of training.”
The hairs on Aria’s back rose as she felt the icy glare of nearby trialeers sizing up their competition—especially from the group of teenagers in traditional Korean clothes who didn’t have suitcases. She assumed they were locals, or “heritage kids,” as the boy earlier had called it. They must feel the League’s precious spots were being stolen by foreigners.
“This may seem severe and uncompromising. But a duty as great as ours is not for the faint of heart, nor is it for the weak of spirit. Which is why rules are upheld here above all else.” He paused to accentuate the point. “The competition will be fierce, and any deviation from the rules will result in swift and sharp action. You will do well to keep this in mind as you compete in these Trials.”
He cleared his expression and smiled magnanimously, opening his arms to the courtyard. “Now without further ado, I call upon the four Head Scholars to approach the Season Guardians. May the lantern rite begin!”
Fredrik Tak, the wiry man Aria had met earlier with the tiny square glasses and the bejweled mustache, was one of the four people who stepped out from the courtyard crowd to approach the stone statues. The others were a sharp-eyed woman with a striking blue streak in her hair, a small, shrewd man with a haughty, condescending air, and a cheery woman in a wheelchair whose perky black curls bounced as she wheeled forward.
Aria took heed of them, each with their tasseled knot charms hanging from their waists. As Head Scholars, she assumed they were high-ranking Fellows in the League. That felt important for her to note.
The Fellow with the bouncy hair and snowflake cloak was the first to approach the statues, placing a hand on the stone turtle. “Frost Turtle Guardian, it is I, Jamie-Ann Kim, who stands before you on behalf of Winter Palace, Season of the Wise. Because wisdom grows in the still of the ice.”
In response, the statue radiated a bright white light, making Aria shield her eyes. When she opened them again, snow was falling from the sky, and the stone statue had turned completely to ice. It grunted, sending a tremor through the granite tiles of the courtyard.
Aria shivered, as the small, shrewd man in the sun cloak reached out to touch the stone bird. “Solar Phoenix Guardian, it is I, Dongki Byun, who stands before you on behalf of Summer Palace, Season of the Rule. Because rules persist in the blaze of the sun.”
The statue glowed a brilliant ruby red before splitting in half, revealing a phoenix made entirely of flames. It squawked and flapped its fiery wings, the heat from its body creating an aura of steam. The warmth was palpable even from where Aria was standing, and soon, tiny sparking embers were raining down alongside the snow.
“Whoa,” Aria breathed.
Head Scholar Tak in his sweetgum-leaf cloak was next, and he placed his hand on the tiger statue. “Harvest Tiger Guardian, it is I, Fredrik Tak, who stands before you on behalf of Autumn Palace, Season of the Just. Because justice prevails in the fall of all life.”
This time, the stone tiger didn’t turn to ice or splinter to reveal a fire as bright as the sun. Instead, it withered away, as if it were being sucked dry of air. As the trialeers gasped, autumn leaves blew in across the courtyard and swirled and gathered where the tiger had stood, re-forming its majestic body. The leafy tiger threw its head back and roared, and Aria almost jumped out of her skin.
Finally, it was the turn of the sharp-eyed woman with the blue streak to approach her statue, her daisy cloak billowing as she placed a hand on the stone dragon. “Bloom Dragon Guardian, it is I, Hilda Bobby-Uma, who stands before you on behalf of Spring Palace, Season of the Kind. Because kindness blooms at the dawn of all breath.”
The dragon statue throbbed like a beating heart before exploding into a maelstrom of petals. Aria gaped as a floral scent filled the air and fresh buttercups weaved through the flurry of snow and embers and autumn leaves. They fell on the pedestal, the petals gathering scale by scale, until a formidable dragon was created. It let out a penetrating hiss, and suddenly, something dawned on Aria.
The Season she’d entered in her pretrial was Spring. That must mean her dreampanion seed would unfurl a bloom dragon, like this one. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, imagining how it would feel to fly on the back of her very own dragon. As soon as the thought arose, she scolded herself. Be quiet, traitorous heart!
From the stage, the Royal Mudang opened her arms wide, making her long, billowing sleeves fan out like silken wings. “By the power bestowed upon us by the Holy Trine, may this year’s cohort of trialeers be assigned their gajok.”
“What’s a gajok?” someone asked nearby.
“It’s Korean for family,” a kind-faced girl near Aria explained. “Every trialeer is assigned to a gajok, which, like the name suggests, becomes your palace family during the Trials.”
Her eyes widened. They were going to be allocated into an actual palace.
One by one, the glowing floating lanterns, which until now had hovered still in the air above the Fellows, started shivering as if being awoken. They tilted from side to side, like boats swaying in the sea, until finally, they took sail.
“Oooh, they’re moving,” Tui breathed.
They watched as the lanterns each determined their path, gliding through the evening ocean until they arrived at their intended destinations.
A pretty girl in a long tulle dress was the first to have a lantern fall from the air and drop into her hands. The shadow of a different dreampanion flickered on each of the four rectangular sides, grunting, squawking, roaring, and hissing. Three extinguished, leaving only the solar phoenix behind.
“I’m in Summer Palace!” she squealed in a high-pitched screech. “Season of the Rule! I can’t believe it! Heritage kids for the win!”
“We all know what Season we went to,” a kid behind Aria said. “Why is that girl pretending to be surprised? So dramatic.”
The kid with the guitar and violin who’d been spanked by the royal guard earlier was next to receive a lantern. It settled on the shadow of a frost turtle, for Winter Palace—Season of the Wise. He grinned widely before doing a little dance and breaking out into song. “Ce-le-brate good times, come on! Dun dun, dun dun, dun dun dun dun!”
Then a girl wearing loads of colorful handwoven bracelets got a lantern that fixed on the harvest tiger, whose shadow mimed a ferocious roar from the thin parchment. “Autumn Palace, Season of the Just! That’s what I’m talking about!”
Soon, there were lanterns flying in all directions, and Aria couldn’t keep up. She lost track of what was going where until warm lanterns fell into both Tui’s hands and hers at the same time.
Tui’s lantern immediately settled on the dragon. But Aria’s lantern flickered indecisively between dragon and tiger, turtle and phoenix, then dragon and tiger, turtle and phoenix again. Aria held her breath, until finally, the shadow settled on the shadow of a bloom dragon.
“We’re in the same palace!” Tui exclaimed.
“The Seasons have completed their nominations,” the Royal Mudang declared. “Trialeers, you may now approach your palace matrons.”
“Welcome to the Spring Palace gajok, Trialeer Love,” the daisy-cloaked woman greeted Aria, as she joined the group of trialeers surrounding the matron. “We are the Season of the Kind, and if Spring chose you to join our gajok, your pretrial must’ve exhibited compassion as your strongest virtue. Whatever your actions were, I thank you for your kindness, that which blooms at the dawn of all breath. I am honored to serve you as your palace matron. You may now call me Sang-Gung Mama.”
She wrapped a hoodless daisy cape around Aria’s shoulders, which seemed to have materialized out of thin air. “I look forward to supporting you through the Trials and hopefully having you join us as a permanent gajokmate at its conclusion.”
Aria pulled the cape closer to herself. It was simple and short, definitely not one of the beautiful long hooded cloaks the real Fellows wore. But she found herself standing a little taller with it on. It was strangely moving to be welcomed into a family—a gajok… Then she remembered she already had a family, and she squared her shoulders.
She had to give it to them—the League had done a good job launching the Trials with glitz and glamor. Even she had felt herself being swept away with the ceremony.
But of course, they’d had ten years to plan how to put their prettiest face forward. To show only their prized jewels so they could ensnare vulnerable teenagers in their dangerous net. And there was no way Aria was going to fall for it. She was going to find the evidence she needed to prove this reckless elite League was dangerous and plotting something sinister.
The king’s voice bellowed from the throne hall, “If anyone wishes to appeal tonight’s lantern rite, this is your chance to speak. Please raise your concerns now or forever hold your peace.”
