Page 29 of King Foretold
She rushes me with glazed, murderous eyes. Something’s not right, but I hesitate because I don’t want to make her injury worse. That second of indecision gives my opponent enough time to land her fist in my gut. Only it isn’t her fist ... but a wooden stake. She morphed her arm into wood.
“What ...” I choke on my own blood, coughing red drops onto the ground. Jo Danbi broke the cardinal rule. She used magic during sparring. I stare down at my ruined stomach, her wooden stake still inside me.
She cheated. She cheated tohurtme. Tokillme. When she flashes her nasty smile at me, a fiery heat burns across my back. Hatred, raw and acrid, roils inside me, and blinding rage drenches my consciousness. I forget everything but the hunger to make her bleed.
I grab her forearm with my hands and pull the wooden stake out of me, screaming in agony. Something like fear flashes through Danbi’s eyes as she backs away from me. Blood gushes out from my stomach, but I no longer feel the pain.
I don’t even feel my feet touch the ground as I approach her, an unfamiliar power gathering inside me. I raise my arms, and a shadow falls across the training yard. I ignore the panicked cries around me and focus on killing the cadet cowering on the ground, the sharp, bloody point of her wooden arm cradled in her other hand.
“Cadet Cho.” Captain Seo’s voice is urgent but gentle, and it breaks through the fog of my bloodlust. Somewhere deep inside, I’m still me,but my mind stutters like it’s being flipped through the channels too quickly. “Stand down, Sunny. This isn’t you.”
My consciousness snaps back to me, and the scene around me comes into focus. Everyone looks shorter than me, as though I grew ten inches. But I didn’t grow. I ... I’m floating a foot in the air. I yelp and drop down to my feet, but I crumple into a pile of limbs because I’m too weak to stand.
The wound in my stomach hurts like a bitch. I moan and curl into a fetal position.Gods.What is happening to me? I feel a cool hand on my forehead. Then everything goes black.
Everything Burns
Fire burns everywhere. Rivers run dry. Trees wither. The earth hardens and cracks. The very life forces of Mountains, Sky, Water, and Underworld feed the fire. Together they are infused with all the colors of light, and a blinding white gi—full and wild—is born.
A female stands in the midst of the fiery ruin with her arms spread wide. Her snow-white hair billows around her head as though she’s floating in water. Her eyes are closed, her expression serene, as though she is soaking in the warmth of the winter sun.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes, and white fire burns in them. Her face hardens even as tears stream down her pale cheeks. She clenches her fists and screams, a piercing sound of sorrow and defeat.
Everything burns.
Chapter Nine
“Sunny.” Someone brushes my hair away from my face. “You have to wake up.”
I sit up with a gasp, which immediately turns into a moan. “Fuck.”
“I told you to wake up, not sit up,” Minju chides as she brings a cup to my lips. “Drink.”
I take a few sips, then push the cup away. “No more. Wh ... what happened?”
“You were injured.” She helps me lie back down. “I was summoned to heal you.”
My forehead crinkles as I try to remember. I was sparring withtheMean Girl, and I cut her. Nothing lethal, but enough to end the round. And ...
“Oh gods.” Everything rushes back to me. “Was anyone ... Did I ... hurt anyone?”
“No, you didn’t hurt anyone.” Minju pulls her knees up under her hanbok chima and rests her chin on them.
Someone changed me into a clean, bloodless dobok. I reach my hand under the shirt and gingerly feel my stomach. My skin where the fist-sized hole used to be is smooth. I peek under the covers. The area feels a bit tender to the touch, but there isn’t even a scar. If left on its own, the wound would’ve taken days to heal unless I bled out first.
“Good work.” I offer the historian a wan smile. Minju is impressively competent at healing spells. “With skills like this, I’m surprised you didn’t become an uinyeo.”
“I was advised against becoming a nurse. Something about inappropriate bedside manners,” she mutters. “I still don’t get it. Don’t the patientsdeservehonesty? A dying person should know they’re dying, right?”
I sputter a laugh, then wince, grabbing my stomach. It looks pretty on the outside, but it still feels like I did a thousand sit-ups on the inside. Jihun picks that exact moment to slide open the door to the room—I actually don’t know where I am—and falls to his knees at my side.
“Gods, Sunny.” He cups my cheek in a warm, calloused hand, his expression soft and unguarded with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” I lean away from his hand and glower at him. “Why are you acting like I’m on my deathbed?”
“Cheyun told me what happened ...” He runs his hand through his hair, and his silken strands stream down the sides of his face. “Your injury sounded ... alarming.”
“Well,Cheyunwas exaggerating.” I sit up to prove my point but regret it right away. The effort hurts me enough to make bile rise to my throat, and the room spins so fast I can’t tell if I’m in Kansas or Oz.
