Page 2 of Vicious Spirits

“How?” The chill seeped into her, so deep it took root in her bones.

“I wish we had more time.” Yena sighed, and it seemed as if she started to sift away, fading into the dark around her.

“Eomma!” Miyoung cried out as the cold spread from her spine to take over her limbs. She could barely move them, as if her very blood were freezing.

“How will you go on without me?” Yena asked. “How will you survive?”

“Maybe I won’t,” Miyoung said moments before her body petrified. Before she became stone, so cold she couldn’t even release the tears that pooled.

“Maybe you won’t,” Yena repeated before the world faded to an icy void. Darker than dark, like a vacuum engulfing everything it touched.

And when Miyoung awoke, her eyes burned. Not from tears. Her cheeks were dry as bone.

When she’d first started having dreams about her mother after her death, she thought they were just that, dreams. A kind of coping mechanism. A way for Miyoung to mourn. But now she was worried they were more. Now she was worried somethingwas wrong. Ever since she lost her fox bead, she’d felt like she was living in a weird kind of limbo. Not quite human, but not really a gumiho either. And it seemed that these visits from Yena were becoming more frequent. And her riddles becoming more threatening. They must be connected.

2

JUNU LOVED Agood deal. Sometimes he hated doing business.

But a dollar was a dollar, no matter the hand that gave it to you.

This was what Junu repeated to himself over and over as the... customer explained what he needed.

“I think I understand,” Junu said.

The creature in front of him huffed, his rancid breath blowing at Junu. His face was broad with a large nose and deep-set eyes. He wore baggy pants and an ill-fitting shirt. A threadbare coat covered him even though the early August heat was sweltering outside. His skin was ruddy, like a man who’d lived his life in the bottle. Or the hue of a creature that many humans refused to believe existed, unless they were under seven years old.

A dokkaebi. The kind of goblin that graced the pages of folktales and myths.

And the kind of thing that Junu was. Though, Junu was the first to point out that there were differentkindsof dokkaebi and if anyone was to do their research, they’d know that.

Junu was a chonggak dokkaebi, the only ones made to be charming. The ones made so beautiful they could woo anyone they pleased.

So, even though the thick-muscled, slow-witted creature infront of him shared the namedokkaebi, Junu would never call it kin.

“I think I might have something to help you with your... problem,” Junu said delicately. He didn’t want to give the dokkaebi an opening to start explaining the gruesome plan he wanted to enact.

“Good,” the dokkaebi mumbled. “I didn’t know if you would. I’ve never heard of one of our kind having to be a merchant.”

“Ah, I see,” Junu said calmly, though inside he burned from embarrassment and annoyance. Embarrassment because most dokkaebi, despite their horrendous hygiene and taste, looked down on him. And annoyance because he knew it shouldn’t matter to him, but it did. “Tell me, how did you come to learn of my services?”

“I ain’t been quiet about my plans, and one day this guy appeared, definitely no human. But I’d never seen someone like him before. He seemed almost godlike.”

“A god told you about my business?” Junu asked.

“Nah, he wasn’t no god, but he just had something about him like he was above us all.”

Something sparked in Junu’s mind at that.

“Anyway, he told me about you, but I wasn’t sure, because buying stuff from a dokkaebi seemed like a scam.” The goblin eyed Junu.

He would have been insulted, but it was true: Dokkaebi didn’t usually need to do anything menial to earn cash, even though they were known for their healthy greed. They could summon riches with their bangmangi, a goblin staff that some of the more indelicate dokkaebi also liked to use as a club. The only thing dokkaebi liked more than money was mischief. So, to see one running a business—even a black-market one thattraded in talismans—would definitely seem suspicious. Like a scam waiting to rob them of every dollar.

“Oh, he actually did want me to give you a message.” The dokkaebi snapped his fingers. “He said to tell you ‘Hyuk had sent me.’ He said it would ensure good service.”

“Ah, he did, did he?” Junu asked, turning to a large wooden chest to search through his wares. It also gave him a chance to hide his face and his obvious surprise. Hyuk. A jeoseung saja. And a figure from Junu’s past he’d rather forget. What did that old reaper want from him? Junu wondered as he searched through dozens of small drawers that held different knickknacks and magical potions alike. He riffled through a few before he found what he was looking for.

The goblin let out a rumbling noise, and Junu worried it was signaling an attack. Then he realized it was a laugh, and he knew what was coming next.

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