Yi Yun felt as though he had awakened from a long sleep. But dreams were usually forgotten, yet he remembered every moment of his captivity. Who would have thought that a person could be imprisoned inside his own body?

  Councilor Kim had crossed every acceptable boundary by setting this trap for him, and Yi Yun intended to deal with his cunning grandfather once he returned to the capital. And with his treacherous eunuch as well. Of course, the prince had never expected exceptional loyalty from a randomly assigned servant, but he had every right to expect some basic decency. Being used like a mindless puppet filled Yi Yun with fury.

  For now, however, more important matters awaited the prince.

  The maidservant stopped singing and looked at him expectantly. They had to hide the golden sword before the Manchus realized they had been deceived. How to deal with what his ghostly ancestor had wrought could be considered later.

  “Come,” Yi Yun ordered the girl and stepped out of the house first.

  When they reached the magistrate’s estate, the maidservant led him toward the kitchen, asked him to turn away, rustled her clothing, and finally handed him the imperial sword. Yi Yun thoughtfully ran his fingers over the scabbard and hilt; the blade answered with a pleasant sense of reliability. Fighting with it was easy, his body remembered the sword, and for a moment Yi Yun paused, imagining himself drawing it again. He could protect not only his father and brothers, but also the entire country from the Manchu barbarians and Japanese pirates. Seeing him in battle, inspired warriors would forget fear and win great victories!

  But of course, the sword of the Ming emperor belonged to the king for whom it was intended. Yi Yun merely needed to deliver it to the capital. Until then, he had to hide it where no one would think to look.

  Noise came from the front courtyard. The prince and the maidservant exchanged glances. Could their pursuers have caught up so quickly?

  “Turn away and do not watch me,” Yi Yun reminded the girl.

  She nodded, her eyes wide with fear. Yi Yun covered the sword as best he could with his sleeve and stepped back into the renewed snowfall.

  The well, the sheds, the woodpile — all of that was too obvious, as was his own room. The stable, the magistrate’s palanquin, chests of clothing… The kitchen lay at the far end of the estate, reachable only by passing through the garden and back courtyard. Yi Yun walked along the cleared path past snowdrifts piled up over the past days and wondered whether to hide the sword under the porch when inspiration struck him.

  Snowdrifts!

  No one would look for a treasure simply in the middle of the garden, unlocked and unguarded. No one would dare throw a precious sword into the snow, trusting they could dig it out later. Yi Yun himself parted with the marvelous relic only with difficulty, but this truly was the solution. He only had to remember between which trees and stone lanterns he left the golden blade.

  He had barely moved a few steps away from the chosen drift when Hyun rounded the corner of the house. His younger brother was alone. Yi Yun exhaled in relief, stepped toward him with a smile, and suddenly received a full handful of sand in the face. His eyes burned; he stopped, trying to brush it away. A salty taste lingered on his lips.

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  Blinking, Yi Yun looked down at his clothes in disbelief and saw that the sand Hyun had thrown at him was fine and white.

  “What have you done?” Yi Yun could not hold back a laugh. “Did you just sprinkle me with salt?”

  His eyes were still watering, and he could not make out Hyun’s expression.

  “Forgive my clumsiness, Great Prince Seojin,” Hyun said in an extremely formal tone. Yi Yun could have sworn the attack had been deliberate.

  Perhaps Hyun really had read his message and was attempting to expel a spirit with salt? A small, na?ve boy.

  “Hyun,” Yi Yun wiped his tears with his sleeve as best he could, though his eyes still stung. He bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and rubbed his face. “It is me again. Yun. Truly. We can discuss cudgels if you want proof.”

  Hyun remained silent, and the tension grew.

  “Hyun, listen,” Yi Yun bit his lip, trying to work out how to convince his brother that he was himself again. “I am sorry that I behaved like a pompous fool these past days. Can we speak somewhere in private? I have important news.”

  “In my quarters?” Hyun asked cautiously. “If the tea pleased my elder brother…”

  No, that would not do. They would lose too much time, and the Manchus were already close. Yi Yun glanced around and noticed an outbuilding nearby, probably a kitchen storehouse.

  “Come,” he seized Hyun’s hand decisively and pulled him along. “There is no time for tea.”

  The shed was quite dark; dust motes swirled in a shaft of light falling through the roof. Bundles of dried herbs and gray sacks of seeds hung from the beams.

  “Elder brother?” Hyun’s eyes widened slightly, his cheekbones sharpening as if he were deciding whether to be afraid or to attack.

  Yi Yun reached for the dagger in his sleeve to hand it to his brother, to show his peaceful intent, but the foolish ghost had not even bothered to wear hidden sheaths!

  “Listen and remember,” Yi Yun had to go straight to the point. “I found the emperor’s sword. I hid it here in the garden, in the snow between the plum tree and the third lantern. The regent’s men are hunting for the sword — and for me. I wounded several of them, but they will return. You must hide it somewhere they will not find and tell no one, not even me. Show loyalty and devotion to him. Then take the sword to Father.”

  “Yi Yun?” Hyun breathed, the corners of his lips lifting timidly.

  “Yes, it is me,” Yi Yun smiled openly and brightly. “Guard the sword, little brother. It is the most important thing.”

  “Of course,” Hyun nodded firmly.

  “And one more thing,” Yi Yun remembered. “Salt would not have helped. You should have torn off the talisman. Speaking of which, help me get rid of this thing.”

  He gestured to his back and Hyun raised eyebrows in surprise, stepping closer. After some fumbling with the ties, Yi Yun loosened his clothing. Hyun leaned in, looked closely, and then breathed out in astonishment.

  “So it was truly real?”

  “Tear it off, I cannot reach,” Yi Yun asked. After some hesitation, his younger brother slipped a hand under his collar and tore away the yellow strip of paper sewn into the lining. “It no longer works, but this will be safer.”

  “I thought educated people did not believe in folk tales,” Hyun frowned, turning the cinnabar-marked amulet in his fingers.

  “It seems not all of them are tales,” Yi Yun spread his hands. “But promise me this stays between us. I do not want rumors.”

  “Should we not explain to Father and the council what happened, and why you followed the embassy?” Hyun’s gaze was serious.

  “A prince of royal blood was replaced by a spirit, and no one noticed,” Yi Yun gave a crooked smile. “Can you imagine what would begin? How could people be sure the king is real? Who knows whether the country is ruled by a hungry ghost? The very foundation of the state would be shaken. No, Hyun, I will take responsibility for what happened, and we will say nothing of folk tales.”

  “You are right, I did not think of that,” his younger brother agreed, looking again at the amulet. “What should I do with this?”

  “Burn it,” Yi Yun shrugged. “I will gladly tell you everything later, but not now. And it is better if we are not seen together for the time being. I will leave first, and you deal with the sword.”

  “It is good to have you back, elder brother,” Hyun said. Yi Yun nodded.