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

The inmyeonjo chuckles and my eyes snap open. The lighter flame hasn’t grown—it has died out.

“Is that all you’ve got?” the bird-woman calls out. Her movements are rapid and jerky, taunting me.

“Don’t give up!” I hear someone yell. I think it’s Taeyo.

I grit my teeth and try Austin’s method. I reignite the lighter flame and stare intently into its core. I don’t blink, I don’t breathe, I just channel my entire concentration into the small flickering fire and will it to grow. Just a little.

As an awkward hush falls over the crowd, the inmyeonjo laughs heartily. “I know it isn’t fair, child,” she croons, “but we can’t all be heroes.”

Something in me snaps. She’s right. It isn’t fair. It’s not fair that both my birth parents were killed. It isn’t fair that Emmett lost his mom. It isn’t fair that Hattie was taken as collateral because I got greedy. And it’s not fair that my parents have to choose between me and their gifts.

As anger fills my body like a poison, the lighter’s flame begins to pulsate. The crowd gasps, and Man Bun Jo calls out from the crowd, “That’s it, kid! Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it!”

In that moment, I realize that, for me, the key is anger. I need to be furious in order to activate my element.

So I let it build. I let the frustration and pain and injustice expand like air in my lungs, and I channel it all toward the lighter flame. I take one deep breath, and then let it out, releasing it toward the inmyeonjo. A fireball flies straight at her….

But it only makes it two-thirds of the way before it loses steam.

The bird-woman’s eyes widen as a small lick of flame bounces forward and singes a talon. She’s surprised, but she doesn’t let it show for long. I used everything I have on that one move, and she knows it. She shrieks and flies over my head, swiping at me with a sharp claw. She misses, but I think she does it on purpose. She’s just showing me she has the upper hand (or wing?).

I rub my wrists again, trying to activate more fire. But my anger is draining away, and even though the crowd is roaring encouragement, I can’t make the flame do anything more than flicker. I am spent.

The inmyeonjo is on the ground now, and she fluffs up her feathers, preparing to attack again. Blood is still seeping from the cheek wound the twins gave her, but she can see she’s already won the fight against me. She throws me a victorious smile and charges. I cover my face with my arms, but one sharp talon still manages to clip me.

Argh!

I clamp down on the trickle of blood from the wound. This is pointless. I can’t do this.

The crowd lets out a gasp, and I look to Sora for help. She frowns slightly but doesn’t intervene. Her words echo in my ears. If we deem your conduct in the task worthy… And What we’re looking for is your commitment and loyalty.

As the size of the task overwhelms me, I do what I do best. I cry. Tears roll down my face as I realize I was wrong. I thought, by pledging allegiance to the Horangi, I could sacrifice myself and save my family. But I can’t even do this right. Even here, even with my birth clan, I’m still the one who’s not good enough. The outsider. I’m a failure, and they will never let me be initiated after this performance.

Instead, I decide to rely on what I know rather than what I don’t. I grew up in a family of healers, and I was taught to stop pain, not inflict it. If I’m going to fail this initiation, I’m going to do it in style. Gom style.

I take one step forward and the inmyeonjo screeches. I look her in the eye with as much calmness as I can muster. “I’m not going to attack you,” I say quietly. “I am going to pick some of those flowers over there”—I point to the patch of calendula and goldenrod near her talons—“and then get some stones from the water. Will you let me do that?”

The bird-woman’s eyes become slits. “Why?” she asks with a snarl.

“Because you haven’t stopped bleeding,” I say. “And I want to heal your wound.”

She squawks and rips a chunk out of the earth with her talon. “Don’t you dare play tricks with me!”

I shake my head. “I’m not. I swear I’m telling you the truth. No tricks. I just want to get to those flowers.”

Her eyes are full of suspicion, and she has started to make a weird chattering sound that can’t be good news for me. But slowly I make my way toward her, one step in front of the other.

“Be careful!” I hear people murmur from the crowd, but no one stops me. I guess this is what they call watching a train wreck. You don’t want to look, but you can’t not, either.

I don’t know how I do it, but somehow I get closer, inch by inch, until my hair is blown back by the inmyeonjo’s beating wings. My heart is pumping so hard I can feel it pulsating in my head. Keeping my eyes glued to hers, I crouch down and cautiously pick some of the calendula and goldenrod. I may never have had a Gi, but I know that these two flowers have natural healing properties, because I’ve seen Eomma use them at the clinic.

With the petals in hand, I slowly stand back up. “Shh,” I whisper, trying to keep the inmyeonjo calm as her feathers bristle anxiously at my closeness. “I’m just going to step sideways now to get to the lake. I need some stones to grind the flowers.”

I start taking small side steps, shushing her the whole time. Somehow I manage to get to the waterside unscathed, and when I’m sure I’m not