Gilded by Christina Farley Read Free Book Online Page B

small pagoda behind me, my arm still aching from being pulled to wherever I am.
    What is this place? What just happened to me?
    I take a deep breath and slowly release it. That’s what Master Park from Tae Kwon Do class tells us to do in overwhelming situations. I can totally handle this. I must have fallen or something. That’s it. Just like I did next to the sweet potato lady. I need to find my way back to wherever I was.
    The wind rails against my cheeks, whipping my long hair across my eyes. I cling to the vertical wooden beams runningalongside the pagoda to keep myself balanced against the gusts. I’m about to take my first step when the wind shifts, pulling away the mist.
    My foot hovers over nothingness.
    I scream. My heart plunges to the pit of my stomach. I claw for the pagoda, all the while eying the vertical drop of maybe a freaking thousand feet.
    Oh God.
    My heart struggles to regain a steady beat. I press my body against the pagoda, fighting the storm that’s desperate to toss me off this pinnacle. Fighting the need to throw up.
    I will
not
panic,
I tell myself over and over. But my hands won’t stop shaking, and my legs buckle underneath me.
    The wooden walls I’m clinging to, with their Chinese characters engraved on them, become my entire focus. I hardly know any Chinese, but I recognize some of these. I try to focus on them, hoping the sight of something familiar will help me pull myself together. Because I’m totally losing it.
    Soo Jin
    Young Mi
    Hana
    Min Sung
    Wait. These are names. The entire pagoda’s surface is carved with them. But why? I shuffle along the edge of the pagoda, reading the names I can decipher and hoping to find the door leading inside. If there is one.
    As I move, I realize the pagoda is more like a small shrine, with a diameter of about ten feet. It’s built on top of a rockpinnacle, with a small, maybe-two-foot ledge circling it. I have yet to see a ladder, stairwell, door—anything to show how this place was even built.
    Farther along, I come to a section where the ledge is so narrow that one misstep will send me flying. My winter coat lashes at my legs. I grip the ledge until my knuckles are white, paralyzed even to attempt this section.
    Characters. I just need to focus on them, and that will distract me. That’s when I read something very strange. My vision blurs, and I nearly lose my grip.
    The names are all too familiar. My great-aunt’s,
Lee Yang Hee,
along with another name,
Lee Sun
, is carved there.
    And then.
    On top and blazing in gold.
    My name.
    Lee Jae Hwa.
    My pulse throbs against my temples. From the corner of my eye, I spot something on the horizon, moving through the air like a bird. I wait as it grows closer, hoping it’s a rescue of some kind, but soon I realize it’s a dragon-led chariot. Except Princess Yuhwa isn’t driving it. It looks like a man.
    I suddenly remember Grandfather’s story and scoot back along the shrine’s edge. The chariot draws closer. I can see the gold-plated scales on the dragons and the gleam of their red eyes.
    Then I hear a voice calling my name.
    “Jae Hwa!”
    I search the area for who is calling me, but I can’t find anyone. “Help!” I yell.
    The rock floor is wider in this section, and for a moment I’m relieved until I realize this is where I started. Which means there isn’t a door into the shrine. There’s no escape.
    “Over here, Jae Hwa!” The voice sounds like Grandfather’s. With my back pressed against the pagoda, I stare out over the edge where I hear his voice; and there, through a shimmery mirage, I can just make out Grandfather, reaching for me through the clouds.
    “Jump, Jae Hwa!” he shouts. “Jump before he finds you!”
    He wants me to jump off a pinnacle that’s forever high. Right. That makes a lot of sense. But then, what about this place makes sense?
    “You cannot run from me, my princess,” another voice, rich and deep, calls out. “You are mine. We are destined to be