When the ship gives another lurch, this one hard enough that the lounge chairs rise in the air before slamming back down onto their sides, Somi yanks Kisa away from the edge. Kisa staggers right back to the rail, desperate to understand what the ineo are doing…

“The anchor!” Kisa cries. “They’ve broken the anchor!” Suddenly the ship is moving, pushed through the waters of the Seocheongang by the swarm of mermaids.

“What the fuck is happening?” Hajun shouts, narrowly avoiding tripping over one of the sliding plastic lounge chairs. “What are they doing?”

“The prison,” Kisa gasps, holding on to Somi to steady herself. “They’re going to push the ship toward Mireuk’s prison—”

A bestial roar shakes the walls of the ship.

“What was that?” cries Hajun.

“That,” whispers Somi, fear scraping in her voice like sandpaper, a wind whipping through her hair, “was a jangsan beom.”

Chapter Thirty

Seokga

Seokga bursts onto the tenth deck, having frantically followed the red thread through the bucking ship—and he has no idea what the fuck that’s about, but it can’t be anything good—to its highest point, where Kisa stands too close to the rail, hands gripping the cold iron as she shouts something to Somi and Hajun, who stand behind her. They’re all in various states of undress, and Seokga is no different, his chest bare like Hajun’s. He couldn’t find his sweater quickly enough.

“KISA!” Seokga roars as he realizes the ship is moving again, speeding through the waters with a dangerous sloppiness. “GET BACK FROM THERE!” Leaning heavily on his cane, his right leg aching from his sprint from Deck 7 to Deck 10, Seokga limps as quickly as he can to Kisa and practically hauls her away from the drop. The river sprays their faces as the ship veers a sharp right, and Seokga hits the deck hard, cushioning Kisa’s fall with his own. Her bare legs tangle with his, and her elbow presses into his stomach as the deck rises up to meet them. He gasps in a breath as Kisa scrambles up to stare down at him, her curls whipping in the violent winds.

“It’s Dr. Jang,” she shouts over the wind. “I read her journal! All of this has been her, all of it! From the very beginning, years before now!” Her small hands grab his to pull him up. “She’s not a shaman, Seokga—she’s a jangsan beom!”

As if on cue, an enraged roar resounds from somewhere beneath them. The Red Thread of Fate is glowing black and pink and blue and purple all at once, their tumultuous emotions mixing in the chaos. Seokga wishes he could protest, but it’s true—all true. Hwanung’s call, Kisa’s suspicions…This case was never closed. “Fuck!” Seokga snarls.

Another roar. This one closer.

Overhead, thunder booms somewhere in the deathly sky.