The Last Fallen Star, Graci Kim [books to read in your 20s .TXT] 📗

“Shirtballs!” Emmett jumps back in horror. “I think I broke him!”

Little by little, patches of glossy hair are revealed underneath the stone, until a teeny-weeny black winged horse emerges from his shell. He shakes off the last bits with a flutter of his mini wings.

“Who dares disturb my slumber?” He has a high-pitched, nasal voice, and for some reason, he speaks with a British accent. “You have disrupted my rest, and now you will pay with your lives. Say your final good-byes, mortals, and prepare to die.”

Oh no….What have we awoken?

I hiccup and jump back, only to collide with Emmett. He yelps and falls down, and his container of cookies tumbles out of his backpack.

The cheollima clicks his little hooves on the washing machine and holds his head high. He pauses with his wings outstretched as if he’s about to Hulk out at any minute. I quickly glance behind us, wondering if we’ll be able to get back to the elevators before he makes his next move.

Then out of the blue, he grins. It’s a million-dollar smile, revealing every single one of his tiny perfect equine teeth.

“Did I get you? Were you scared?” He neighs with glee. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to try that out for so long. It’s been a while since I’ve had any visitors.”

Emmett and I look at each other and then back at the cheollima, stunned. Is he for real?

“Is this the entrance to the gifted library?” I tentatively ask, taking another step away from the cheollima, just in case.

He nods, and I feel a rush of relief. Auntie Okja was right, after all.

“This is indeed the protected entrance to the gifted library, my cherry cupcakes.” He jumps up onto his two hind legs, and suddenly, a tiny clipboard with a piece of paper appears in his front hooves. “Your names, please?” he asks, looking from his paper back to us.

“Why do you need our names?” Emmett asks, narrowing his eyes.

“To see if you’re on the list, of course! I can’t ask you the verification questions if you’re not an authorized council member, now, can I?”

I let out another hiccup. Even glamoured as the Chung sisters, we couldn’t pass as council members. We’re doomed.

“Why are you protecting the entrance, anyway?” Emmett asks. “Aren’t the Miru guards supposed to be watching it?”

The cheollima drops his clipboard and stomps his hooves. “I am a guard, thank you very much.”

Emmett raises an eyebrow. “Are you, though? I thought cheollimas normally lived in the Godrealm?”

The winged horse sighs dramatically. “Indeed they do, my sweet sausage. But look at me.” He spins once so we get a sense of his full size. “Do you know how difficult it is for a runt to find stable employment in the Godrealm? No divine being wants to ride a cheollima who only comes up to their calves! It’s tough pickings up there, I tell you.”

“So you got a job working as security for the Miru,” I say. “Good for you.”

“Yeah, you do you, dude,” Emmett echoes. “It sucks to be small.”

The cheollima smiles his pearly whites. “Shucks, thanks, ladies. But, enough about me. As nice as this wee chat has been, if your names aren’t on the list, I will have no choice but to end your lives, right here, right now. I may be small, but I am deadly.”

We laugh uncomfortably at his second attempt at the killing-us joke, but this time he doesn’t smile. His poker face is next-level. He’s either got a really dry sense of humor, or we might not make it out of here alive.

Emmett slowly picks his fallen cookie container off the ground, sensing that we may have to make a run for it very soon.

“Wait a bloomin’ minute!” the cheollima shouts, his eyes widening. “What do you have there?”

“Cookies,” Emmett says, prying open the Tupperware. “Salted caramel. Baked fresh yesterday.”

The cheollima gasps and hops up and down on his back legs. “My favorite! What do I have to do to get my hooves on one of those, sugar plum?”

Emmett and I look at each other, and the same lightbulb goes on in both our heads.

“If you let us into the library, I’ll happily give you a cookie,” Emmett says.

“His—I mean, her cookies are the best,” I add. “I can definitely vouch for them.”

The cheollima taps his front hoof on the washing machine, considering the offer. Eventually, he stops and turns to us. “Hmm. Well, I could waive the authorized-personnel requirement in exchange for a cookie. But the portal still won’t open if you don’t pass the verification process.”

“What does that involve?” I ask.

“You have to answer my three riddles correctly. The people on the list know the correct answers.” He glances at Emmett’s cookies and licks his horsey lips. “Although, if you were willing to part with two of those, I might let you get away with just one correct answer out of three.”

“We’ll do it,” Emmett says.

The cheollima flaps his wings. “Deal!” He clears his throat and puts on one of those fake game-show-host voices. “All right, contestants, let’s get this party started. Verification question attempt number one: Who’s the more powerful of the two, the ant or the elephant?”

I shoot my hand into the air. “Ooh, ooh, that’s way too easy,” I squeal. “It’s the elephant. They’re the largest land animal on Earth.”

I hold up my palm for a high-five from Emmett, but a loud neigh escapes from the cheollima’s mouth.

“Incorrect!” he announces. “While the elephant is indeed very powerful, the humble ant is able to lift up to one thousand times its own body weight. The correct answer is ant!”

I lower my palm. “Sorry, Em,” I say sheepishly. “I should have checked with you before answering.”

“It’s okay,” Emmett says, a determined-to-win look on his face. “He said we have three tries.”

The cheollima shakes out his wings. “Better luck next round, contestants. And remember, two minds are better than one. Verification question attempt number two: Which is stronger, steel or silk?”

This time,