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

I keep my mouth shut and look to Emmett. “What do you think?”

He pouts in thought. “I mean, steel seems like the obvious answer. But the obvious answer was wrong before. So maybe it’s silk?”

I nod. “That logic makes sense. There’ll be some kind of technicality that makes silk stronger. Let’s go with that.”

Emmett puts his hands on his hips. “Our answer is silk.”

We look hopefully at the cheollima, but he bleats out another incorrect-buzzer sound and looks disappointed. “Wrong again, my delicate macarons. Everyone knows steel is stronger than silk. I thought I’d throw in an easy one to help you out, but it looks like you threw it down the loo!”

My hands start to sweat, and Emmett lowers his head. “Sorry, Rye. That was my bad.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “We’re in this together, Em. No need to apologize.”

The cheollima does a final twirl on his right hind leg and clears his throat. “So, contestants, this is the moment of truth. The moment we’ve all been waiting for. My last chance to obtain those cookies, and your last chance to gain passage into the gifted library or face certain death. Are you ready to hear the question for your final verification attempt?”

We both nod, swallowing hard. I really hope he’s joking about the certain death part….

“Third and final attempt: Which is the mightier of the two, the sun or the wind?”

Emmett and I take our time working this one out.

“The answer that first comes to mind is the wind,” Emmett muses. “I mean, the sun just shines, but the wind can be strong and blustery, right? It can create hurricanes, destroy entire houses, that kinda thing.”

I nod, thinking hard. “That’s what I was gonna say, too. The wind is the obvious choice.” But then I remember the story Auntie Okja used to tell me about the power of empathy over brute force. “Wait, do you know the old Aesop’s fable about the wind and the sun?”

Emmett shakes his head.

“Essentially, the north wind wanted to prove he was mightier than anyone else in the universe. So one day, he challenged the sleepy sun to a duel. If he could remove the jacket from a human faster than the sun could, there would be no doubt that he was the mightiest of all.”

Emmett is listening carefully, so I continue. “So the north wind went first, and he huffed and puffed, blowing on the man as hard as he could. He thought it was going to be easy, since he was so powerful, but the more wind he created, the colder the man felt, and the tighter he held on to his jacket. Eventually, the wind ran out of breath and fell into a heap, exhausted.”

“And the sun?” Emmett asks.

“Well, then the sun shone her gentle warm rays on the man. The man started relaxing, and yawning, and eventually he got too warm from all the heat. Before long—bam!—he took off his jacket.”

Emmett slaps his thigh. “That’s gotta be it, Rye. It’s the sun.”

The cheollima flaps his wings and clips his hooves on the washing machine. “Righto, time’s up, cinnamon creams! What’s your final answer? The sun or the wind?”

“The sun!” Emmett and I call out together.

The cheollima pauses. “Are you sure?”

For a second, I waver. Maybe it’s the wind?

But Emmett’s confident expression erases my doubt. “Our final answer is the sun,” he says. “Lock it in, thanks.”

The cheollima takes flight and does a few 360s in the air. “Hooray!” he cries. “The cookies are mine!”

Emmett and I high-five each other and fist-pump the air. We did it!

“You have earned passage into the gifted library, my sweet dumplings! But remember, you don’t have all day. My shift ends this afternoon, and after that the next guard will eventually notice you’re in there.”

Emmett lifts off the lid of the Tupperware container to take out two cookies. Then he changes his mind. He walks over to the cheollima and places the entire thing on top of the washing machine.

“You know what? Why don’t you have all of them,” he says. “You’ve been really good to us, and we’re grateful for your help.”

I smile at the gesture. It’s a very sweet, very Emmett-like thing to do.

“Oh boy, oh boy, how kind of you!” coos the cheollima. He flaps his wings excitedly. “And to reward your utmost generosity, my little cheesecakes, I will offer you a piece of advice about the place you are about to enter.”

We lean in, listening eagerly.

“The library may not be what you expect. But books have a way of finding their rightful owners. So trust in their wisdom and you’ll have a hoot.”

And with that, the cheollima presses the red button on the washing machine, and the round door on the front opens with a satisfying click. “Jump in whenever you’re ready!”

“You want us to go in there?” I ask, horrified. I look down at Cosette’s long limbs, and then at Emmett’s even longer Adeline limbs, not to mention Boris the dragon scooter. Suddenly, the washer doesn’t seem so big anymore.

The cheollima looks at me, confused. “You do want to enter the library, don’t you?”

“Ugh. Of course that’s the entrance.” Emmett shakes his head. “Why do I even bother acting surprised anymore? Magic is wack.”

“It’s just a quick spin,” assures the cheollima, “one at a time, with no water. You’ll be there in a jiffy.”

Emmett takes a big breath. “Here goes nothing.” He extends a long Adeline leg and starts climbing into the open mouth of the machine. The angle doesn’t work, though, so he then backtracks and tries to enter butt-first. This time, he manages to squeeze himself in there—just barely—but it doesn’t look comfortable by any means. This would be so much easier if we were in our own shorter bodies and not these gazelle-like supermodel disguises….

Emmett waves at me awkwardly, his arm wedged between the machine and Adeline’s boob. “See you on the other side, Rye.”

The cheollima closes the door and pushes the START CYCLE