What’s taking so long?

Nara picked up her teacup, set it back down, and then picked it back up again.  The liquid inside was growing cold, yet she couldn’t bring herself to take a single sip.  She was far too anxious for that, for several reasons.

She and Young Min were seated on the patio of a teahouse, in the dappled shade of a large oak.  With each fresh gust of wind, a few golden-red leaves would tear from the branches and spiral around them, but Nara scarcely noticed.  She was far too concerned with the impending events of the day.

When they had reached the village a half an hour earlier, Young Min had decided to stop for tea.  Won Soo had left with the horses, to find a place for him and Young Min to stay the night and to inquire after the local magistrate.  It was only a matter of time until Nara’s investigation would begin.

In the meantime, Nara continued to cast anxious glances at the road.  At any moment, she expected to see either Won Soo appear with the magistrate to take her away, or have the traveling street performers pass by and recognize her.  And what had ever happened to the gumiho who had agreed to help her?  Or had that all just been a figment of her imagination, brought about by hunger and fatigue?

Of course not!  Her imagination wasn’t that terrible.

Across the table, Young Min shifted with a wince.  He too, seemed distracted, Nara noted, studying him surreptitiously from beneath lowered lashes.  There were shadows beneath his eyes, and a pained tightness in his jaw.

“Are you still not feeling well?” she found herself asking before she could censor the thought.  I shouldn’t have asked that!

Young Min’s dark brown eyes slowly rose to meet hers.  A frown briefly crossed his face, and for a moment, Nara wondered if he would reprimand her for her intrusiveness.  As the silence between them stretched on, Nara finally turned away and took a big gulp of her tea, cringing at the lukewarm temperature, but more relieved to have a distraction.

“I didn’t realize it was so apparent,” Young Min finally replied.  “I was hoping to keep it a secret for a bit longer.”  Nara looked back—quickly, guiltily—to find him still looking at her.

“I-I’m sorry,” Nara stuttered.  “I shouldn’t have asked…”  She trailed off, suddenly very intent on studying the grain patterns in the wooden table before her.

“What gave it away?” Young Min asked.

“Uh…” she hadn’t anticipated that question.  To be honest, if the gumiho hadn’t brought her attention to the matter, she wasn’t sure that she would have noticed it until several days later.  But regardless of whether or not she would have noticed before, the fact of the matter remained that now she could plainly see that there was something bothering the scholarly noble.  The last night, he had been slow on his feet and stepped cautiously over the stones and twigs around their campsite—today, his face was drawn and his gaze distant, and at times he walked like an old man with rheumatism.

“I’m hoping to keep it from Won Soo for a bit longer,” Young Min explained.  “I don’t want him to be alarmed, but…it’s not getting any better, and I don’t know if there’s a cure.  So if there’s anything I need to adjust in my manner, I’d like to know.  He’s a loyal servant, but prone to panic.”

“I just sort of, um, noticed,” Nara mumbled, forcing down another swallow of her tepid drink.  She needed to change the subject—and fast!  There would be no way a yangban would believe her stories of auras and fox-spirits!  “Are you looking for a cure in Miryang?  You mentioned you were going there, right?”

Good strategy!  Evade questions with more questions!

“My uncle lives there,” he answered slowly.  “I don’t know about finding a cure, but it is a good place to stay out of the public eye, and will give me more time to think about my options.”

He lapsed into silence then, and Nara finally got up the courage to look up at him again.  Maybe it was the slump of his shoulders, or the tired sigh that escaped his lips to mix with the rustle of the oak leaves above them, but Nara suddenly felt a twinge of empathy for the nobleman.

“It’ll be all right,” she tried to assure him.  If only he knew!  It was so crazy, she could scarcely believe it herself, but the gumiho had promised to help break the curse that ailed him, whatever it was.  Of course, that promise had been made after the first, more important one, and that first promise was the only thing currently keeping her in her seat.  She would make it safely through the mountain pass without getting caught.  She would.

“I was planning to marry a girl from my town,” Young Min said.  “She came from a good family and was quite smart, though a bit rash at times.  I was planning on asking my father for permission for us to wed once he came home on a break from serving the king in Hanyang.”

Nara gasped—she hadn’t realized this noble came from such a distinguished background.  The knowledge only caused her to fiddle with her teacup even more.

“Well, now I’ll just have to wait and see what happens,” Young Min continued with a regretful half-smile.  “There was a…misunderstanding right before I fell ill, and I was unable to make amends before I left.”

“You’ll be able to get better.  I know you will!” Nara blurted before she could stop herself.

Young Min gave a short laugh, but stopped suddenly as he moved to stretch out his legs.  “Ah, I’m not so sure about that,” he said through gritted teeth.  “But I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“I promise,” Nara insisted.  “You’ll make a full recovery.”  Too late, she realized she had been too eager in her assurance.  What does it matter if he knows he’ll get better or not, as long as he is freed from the curse?  I should have kept silent!  Already, she could see the suspicion creeping into Young Min’s countenance.

“You seem awfully certain of the matter,” Young Min said, his gaze searching.  “Do you know something I am not aware of?”

Nara bit her lip, regretting her words and mentally berating herself for her inability to leave matters alone that didn’t involve her.  First it was helping fight off the bandits, and now it was helping a near-stranger with his curse!  No matter how well-meaning he was—it was best that she distance herself as much as possible!  Yet the words continued to fall from her mouth as easily as an unraveling thread.

“Do you believe in magic?” she asked.  “Or spirits, or spells?”  Heaven help her if he thought her mad!  Whatever had happened to her resolve to not tell him of any of this?

“If you are suggesting that my ailment can be cured by nonsensical words and foolish superstitions, then I have sorely overestimated your intellect,” Young Min replied curtly.  His dark brows furrowed together in disapproval.  “The world is a place of logic and sensibility, and there is neither time nor place for such irrational drivel.”

A mixture of embarrassment and anger brought heat to Nara’s cheeks.  “You think you know the world so well,” she countered hotly.  “But it is people like you with such closed minds who bring the world to ruin because they fail to see other points of view!  Only one thing is for sure—that we do not know everything, nor are ever likely to!  So why not believe in magic?”

“But would you agree that there is certainly a difference between an open mind and indulgence in utter nonsense?” Young Min replied.  “Only fools take stock in silly notions of things that have no reason to them.  Show me proof that magic is possible, and perhaps I will consider it.”

It was the end of the conversation, or so it seemed, until another spasm of pain came upon the young nobleman and he bent over, clutching his right leg.  This was far worse than the previous times, and when finally the moment had passed, Young Min was breathing heavily and looking quite pale.

“There he is, magistrate!  His name is Soo Mi Nam, or so he says.  Suspected criminal, and by what we’ve just heard of their conversation, a sorcerer, too, who has cast a terrible spell on my young master.”

Nara froze, realizing that in her attempt to first assure and then persuade Young Min of the nature of his mysterious illness, she had forgotten to keep checking the road, and now Won Soo was back, along with the local magistrate.

 “Well, well,” the magistrate said, a dark look crossing his face as he smoothed down the tips of his moustache.  “This is a case I am quite looking forward to investigating.”