King (The Dragon King Chronicles #3)

“Be careful . . .”


Their words wound together as they pulled apart in self-conscious constraint.

“I love you, Kang Kira,” he said.

“I know,” Kira said. She turned away quickly, unable to look at Jaewon’s face. Not wanting to see the disappointment that she always seemed to cause him.

Kira looked straight up at the mountain, assessing its obsidian surface. It was a little over three li tall. In order to get a better view, she walked a fair distance away to study the route up to the temple. The vertical rise was craggy with crack lines, overhangs, bulges, and ledges for the bottom third of the mountain. These petered out in the higher levels, where she took in the sheerness of the upper rock, with very few holds or ledges. She spotted some narrow ridges and a long crack through the heart of the mountain, but otherwise the upper half of the mountain looked virtually impossible to climb.

Without saying a word, she began to climb. Her sword and water bag were slung over her shoulders. As she anticipated, the first part was easy. She powered through it without breaking a sweat.

An hour had passed by the time she was a third of the way up the mountain and she had no choice but to slow down. The next reach would require a full-body swing to grab hold of a large crack. She hesitated, searching for a foothold under it. All she could see were a few small ridges that looked like they wouldn’t hold her weight. But she had no choice.

Taking a deep breath, she swung her whole body over, reaching for the ledge. Her feet scrambled for the ridges, finding them and then losing hold as one crumbled, leaving her hanging on with one hand. She struggled to pull herself up and get a solid hold of the rock, wedging her feet against the side of the mountain as she pulled herself beyond the ledge.

She looked up at what appeared to be a straight glasslike surface. Desperate, she craned her neck to her left and spotted a narrow fissure more than her body’s length away. She crawled crablike over the surface, crimping her fingertips over the smallest of edges in a mad rush to make it to the fissure. Squeezing her body into the narrow space, she rested her feet on a convenient crack and planted her back solidly against the wall.

Kira leaned her forehead against the inner wall and closed her eyes. She could feel the deep ache of every muscle in her body. The tips of her fingers were cracked and bleeding, and she wished she could get rid of her boots. Would she have a better grip with her toes? Looking at the mess her hands had become, she decided against it.

After a ten-minute rest, she began to crawl up the chimney-like cavity. It was an easy climb but ended too quickly. Popping out of the end of the fissure, Kira was faced with a short overhang. She propelled herself up to see where she was. It looked like the midpoint. But how was she to climb the rest of the way? Looking at her fingertips, she knew she had to be smarter. She was already losing feeling in them. This time when she found a crack in the granite, she pushed her hand in and clenched her fist, causing her muscles to expand and wedge into place. It was excruciatingly painful, but the tight fit ensured she wouldn’t slip.

Higher and higher she climbed by sheer willpower. Blood seeped down her arms from the cuts and abrasions on her hands. She didn’t stop, until finally she saw the base of the temple, three body lengths above her. It was so close. Euphoric, she reached for a hold, but the rock came apart in her hand, sending her falling, her body sliding down the face of the rock. There was no time to even scream as she desperately tried to catch hold of something. Anything.