“Like how gumiho don’t exist?” Junu ran a finger over Mi-young’s cheek. She balked. Junu grinned. Miyoung glowered. “Or should I say a half gumiho? Your human side is showing.”
She gritted her teeth and let out a growl.
“Oh, don’t be sour. Your human side is why you’re allowed inside my home. I’ve had... unhappy dealings with gumiho in the past.”
Miyoung did not like this boy, dokkaebi, whatever.
“We are looking for a talisman,” Nara said, pulling the attention of the room back to her. “I was told you could get it for us.”
“I am assuming it’s no ordinary talisman or else the granddaughter of Kim Hyunsook wouldn’t come to see me.”
“You know who my grandmother is?”
“It’s my business to know things,” Junu replied, his eyes sliding over to Miyoung. “Like how I know your mother is Gu Yena, one of the oldest gumiho I’ve ever had the honor of doing business with. Though this was long ago.”
“Was my mother the gumiho you had bad dealings with then?” Miyoung asked.
“Oh no, Yena knows the value of a good deal.” Junu let out a laugh before clarifying his joke. “She pays a lot of money. The best kind of client.”
“Well, we’re here because we need a gui talisman,” Nara specified.
Junu’s eyebrows rose. “Taoist? Are you trained in the practice?”
Miyoung took an instinctive step back at the mention ofTaoism. There were ancient tales saying some Taoist sorcerers held as much power as the sun god, Haemosu.
Her mother had spoken of the practice only once, a warning never to go near Taoist magic. It hadn’t just been disdain in Yena’s command, but fear. Anything that scared her mother must be powerful. And dangerous.
“Why are we here for a—?” She paused to collect herself before continuing. “For that kind of talisman?”
“It opens one to receive,” Nara said pointedly.
Miyoung nodded in understanding. So it would allow her to open herself to the bead.
“Do you understand the practices of Taoism?” Junu asked, his voice low and serious. A departure from his previous mischievous taunting. “It’s not just magic like you seem to think. It’s a balance between the ways of heaven and the ways of the earth.”
Miyoung didn’t like the judgment she heard. As if they were foolish children to be chastised. “Do you have this talisman or not?”
He looked back and forth between the girls, considering, calculating.
“I might have it. How much is it worth to you?” Junu’s eyes settled on Miyoung like he knew instinctively who’d be responsible for payment.
“Cost is not an issue; just get it.” She shooed him away with her hand, condescension clear in every flick of her fingers. “I don’t like spending too much time in strange places.”
“Listen, sweetheart, my place is state of the art. My fridge tells me the news, and my stove listens to voice commands.”
“Must make you feel right at home, talking to inanimate objects,” Miyoung scoffed. In her mind, dokkaebi were one ofthe only things less human than gumiho. At least gumiho were born; dokkaebi were made.
Junu frowned, the first sign she was getting to him.
He stomped out of the kitchen.
“You shouldn’t have upset him. He might not give us the talisman now,” Nara said in a nervous whisper.
“He’ll give it to us. Dokkaebi only care about money.”
Nara chewed at her lip, obviously not as convinced as Miyoung.
“I’ve never heard of one who worked for their cash, though,” Miyoung mused. “What’s his deal?”