Perhaps Seokga should have been paying more attention instead of wallowing in a pit of despair. However, when Seokga wallows, it’s very hard to pull himself out of it and remember that other people do, unfortunately, exist. Even on a good day, he does not care very much about anybody else. Aside, obviously, from the woman who has always been his one exception.

Somi snorts in derision. “How did you miss that? Really—”

His phone vibrates, and Seokga sends Somi a withering glare before reaching into his pocket and checking his texts. A moment later, his heart stops cold.

Yeomra: Hwanung just teleported onto the ship.

Yeomra: I’m assuming you’ll get on this immediately.

What in the seven hells?

Seokga gapes at the screen before shoving it back into his pocket and staring down at Hwanin. Why is Hwanung on the ship? He’s nearly certain that the young god is somehow involved in his father’s death, and his sudden appearance doesn’t bode well—at all. Seokga’s blood heats as he’s suddenly overcome with a burning urgency to hide his brother, to protect him. He stares down at the little bundle in his arms, wondering when something so small became so precious. “Hajun, Somi,” Seokga says, voice sharp, “hide the child.”

Somi’s eyes are wide as Seokga passes Hwanin to her, and he’s relieved to see that the gumiho is gentle with him. Hwanin begins to cry as he leaves his brother’s arms, and the sound goes straight to Seokga’s chest—but he’s already rushing from the sick bay. He’s not entirely sure what he’s planning on doing. Where is Kisa? He needs her. He needs her desperately.

It’s almost as if Gameunjang, goddess of luck, has finally thrown him a bone as he rounds the corner only to collide with a smaller body. Seokga rushes to steady Kisa, who’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed blue and curls in a rumpled disarray. Yellow happiness tinged with relief glows down the red thread, but her thoughts quickly dampen his joy.

—Hwanung—with Jang—going—Deck 9—swim—lie—Seokga—

“Your nephew,” she pants. Seokga’s hands are still placed on her shoulders, and he feels that she’s trembling. “He’s heading to—”

“To Deck 9,” he finishes, and she nods breathlessly. Grimly, Seokga lets his hands drop from her narrow shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“I suppose the…cerebration transference…can be useful,” Kisa puffs as they hurry up the stairs. Seokga’s right leg burns, but he grips his cane harder, ignoring it. “I can barely…speak…”