“Here goes nothing,” Haneul muttered, and slid open the hatch.
I coughed immediately at the thick, pollen-scented breeze that swirled through the pod. At least, it started as a breeze. It quickly became more forceful, almost as if it were responding to our presence. “Let’s hurry,” I said.
Haneul didn’t need to be told twice. “Let me ask the winds to calm down,” she said, although she sounded dubious. She shut her eyes and began to meditate. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, and though I didn’t notice much change in the air current, she began clambering down. Her voice wafted to us from outside the capsule: “Be careful out here. Some of these branches have thorns.”
Wonderful. “I’ll go next,” I said. If necessary, I could shape-shift into something that would take less damage in a fall, or offer cushioning for anyone landing on me. Being a mattress might not be dignified, but it beat Sujin ending up with broken bones or a concussion, or worse.
The trees grew thick and tall. Their limbs were bent or snapped around the capsule, and the remains of the parachute were draped over the treetops. A few of the trees had needlelike leaves that glistened with a pale sap. I got some of it on my hands and found that it improved my grip on the branches.
The thorns were another matter. Haneul hadn’t been kidding about them. Some of them were almost the length of my forearm. If I fell on one, I might join the ghosts before reaching the ground.
I momentarily wished I’d changed into my nimbler true shape for the job of climbing down, but my longer human arms had better reach. I swallowed a cry when a smaller thorn jabbed my arm as I leaped unsteadily toward one of the larger branches beneath me. The unfamiliar lighter gravity was interfering with my reflexes. When I flinched, I inadvertently moved my foot and took another thorn to the back of my knee.
“Not that way!” Haneul shouted up from the ground now that she could see me clearly. “Take a couple steps to the side, and—you see that branch with the weird knot? Move to that one instead. It’s safer.”
With her guidance, I made it the rest of the way down. “Thanks,” I said.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Sujin, you ready?”
“I watched you both,” they said, some of their cheer restored. “I can manage it. To free up my hands, I’m going to have to wear my hat, so here goes nothing!”
I could only follow Sujin’s progress by the rustling of the branches and leaves. At one point a twig pelted me from above, and I jumped. “Stop that!”
Sujin sounded puzzled. “That wasn’t me!”
“I have to agree,” Haneul said. “This isn’t the time, Sujin.”
“No, it really wasn’t—”
More twigs began to bombard us.
Haneul and I exchanged glances. “The ghosts,” she said thinly.
“You’d better hurry,” I said to Sujin.
“You’re telling me.” The branches rustled more vigorously.
At last the three of us had made it safely to the ground. Sujin pulled off their hat and reappeared right next to Haneul, who didn’t bat an eyelash.
Hardly any light filtered down this low, and I shivered as the wind picked up again. The smell of pollen almost overwhelmed me, even though I couldn’t see any flowers in bloom, either in the trees or among the mosses and underbrush.
At least the wind was carrying away the stink of our sweat. I would have given a lot for a bath right then, or the opportunity to wash my face.
“Here,” Sujin said, pulling out their spork. “A few quick snacks, we can eat and drink on the way. It won’t do us any good if we faint from hunger, and we need hydration after all the sweating we’ve done.” With a few passes of their spork, they produced orange sodas and honey cookies.
Silently, we each took our share. From Haneul’s dour expression, I knew she thought the snacks were too sugary. I normally liked sweets, though, and I wasn’t about to complain. Any calories were good, especially considering our situation.
“It’s hard to tell which way is north,” Sujin said, subdued, as they looked around. There was only forest in every direction. “How are we going to . . . ?” Their words trailed off as hopelessness set in.
I dug in the survival kit and found a compass. I pointed out what it claimed was north. “I don’t know how reliable this is, though,” I added when the needle began to spin. Ghosts again.
“We’ll have to do our best,” Haneul said. She raised her chin and turned until she was facing into the wind. As she did so, it grew even stronger, buffeting us with fallen leaves and snapped twigs. “If the ghosts don’t want us to go in that direction, chances are something valuable is there.”
I couldn’t argue with the logic. I just hoped we weren’t making a terrible mistake.
For the first hour, the shadows deepened as we made our way through the forest. The trees rose around us like stern sentinels, veiling the sky with their leaves. Haneul showed no sign that the increasingly chilly wind affected her, but Sujin hugged themself miserably and huddled close to her. For my part, I conjured myself a warmer coat. I wished I could do the same for Sujin, but my magic didn’t work that way.
“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Sujin asked Haneul. I was starting to wonder the same thing.
“Do you have a better idea?” Haneul snapped.
Sujin didn’t ask again after that.
In the meantime, I marveled at the forest. At first I’d been overwhelmed by the masses of trees in every direction. We had no wild forests like this on Jinju due to the inadequate water. The longer we walked, the more I began to appreciate nuances. I spotted elaborately woven bird’s nests in the branches, like ornaments in the trees’ hair. The mosses that grew on the trees’ bark looked rich and soft. I trailed my fingers through some as I passed and marveled at the cool, furry texture. I caught sight of a clearing where boulders glittered faintly with fantastic outcroppings of crystal and curling ferns grew shyly at their sides.
The winds seemed less cruel whenever I paused to admire the forest’s wonders. It was almost as if the spirits who were stirring up the air were mollified by my flattering gaze. I guessed it appealed to their vanity. Ghosts were people, too, after all—they just happened to be people who hadn’t yet fully crossed over to the realm of the dead.
The Fourth Colony was supposedly a dead world, yet in the space of a few hours, I had encountered so much more life than Jinju had ever supported—except in enclosed, pampered gardens reserved for the richest families. I knew the entire planet couldn’t be like this. It would have its deserts and its glaciers, different climate zones. But as I walked through the solemn forest, I could dream that Jinju would someday look like this, too, at least in the parts where people lived. That could only happen, though, if I found the Dragon Pearl and rescued my brother.
If I succeeded in doing those two things, maybe—just maybe—my family would forgive me for everything I’d done.
The density of the woods dwindled little by little, until we finally reached the edge. Dusk light broke through the trees, tinting their trunks and the forest floor a ruddy color that contrasted with the cooler violets of the shadows.
“It’s going to be night soon,” Haneul said. Her breath puffed white in the cold. Alone of the three of us, she traveled in a bubble of calm, and I envied her. “Should we keep going, or look for a campsite?”
“Let’s take a brief break at least,” Sujin said. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m hungry again.”
As the sun’s reddening light faded, we sat on the ground, where Haneul used a twig to scratch out a map in a patch of dirt. I compared her diagram to the survey data on the slate. Together we did some calculations.
“This”—Haneul pointed with the twig—“is where we started, and that’s our destination. We’re most of the way there. Should we carry on?”
“Yes, let’s,” I said. “I don’t want to be caught out in the open if ghosts show up at night.” I didn’t know if spirits were more dangerous in the dark, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I cast a nervous eye toward the sun, which had almost sunk below the horizon. Being able to see the sky also told us that clouds had been gathering steadily.
“It smells like rain,” Sujin said, pulling a face as we got up. “We’re going to get soaked soon.”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” I said.
“I’m afraid Sujin’s right,” Haneul said.
We started off again, huddling together against the gusts. This time, in the moaning of the wind, I thought I detected voices like whispers out of the shadows. I slowed from time to time in an instinctive effort to hear the voices more clearly.
“What’s the matter with you, Min?” Haneul demanded after the fifth time I’d lagged behind. “You’re holding us up.”
I bit back a retort. “You don’t hear them?”