Shaman

Chapter VIII

"Why are you in such a rush, Jisoo?" asked Mrs. Kim without easing her grip on her daughter’s shoulders. "You have just regained consciousness. The doctor said to keep you one more day. Just one day left—”

"One day is too much!" exclaimed Jisoo, wincing as she realized that her voice had come out louder than intended. Dull pain throbbed in her chest whenever she spoke. "There's … there's something I must do." She eyed the closed door on the opposite end of the hospital room.

"And what is so urgent? I'm well aware that your final exams are hardly two months from now — but your teachers said you can take as long as a week off school and they'll make sure to help you catch up."

"... It's not about school."

Jisoo toyed with the hem of the blanket warming her lower body. Earlier her mother had recounted the accident that had plunged her in a week-long coma. Apparently she had tried to save a child crossing the road from being hit by a drunk driver; while the child had survived unscathed thanks to her, Jisoo had suffered severe head injury as well as rib fractures.

"Then what is it?" snapped her mother in a rather stern tone, as parents often do when their child was behaving irrationally. But her expression swiftly softened. "If it's not about school, is it about your friends? That can wait a day. Jennie called and said she would visit this evening after school."

I have to find and destroy a book, Jisoo thought wryly. She couldn't remember where she had last left it. Besides, it was an absurd reason, even to her own ears. She simply nodded in reply, silently reassuring her mother that she would obediently stay in bed.

Maybe … It was just a strange dream. A long and strange dream.

Was it all just a dream?

Over and over this question plagued her conscience. What proof could she find to determine whether what she had gone through while unconscious was a dream or reality? The longer she sat pondering, the further that other world drifted from her sense of reality. And she was left with doubts of its very existence.

She allowed her mind to wander back to the night of the festival in the world of the cursed book, back to the memory of glowing lanterns, bearing prayers and hopes for the coming days, flying free into the night sky. The suffocating layers of silk robes she once wore were now replaced by a flimsy hospital gown.

Her thoughts trotted to the young duke, whom she had grown fond of in the little time they had shared, and whose sincerity and gentle character had impressed on her mind endearing memories which she could not define as anything but real.

Could he be one of the souls trapped within the book? she thought.

She needed to see the book — to ascertain her doubts and suspicions.

"Jisoo, I'll get going soon," said Mrs. Kim after a while. "If there's anything you want, send me a text message. I'll have to do groceries before coming tonight."

"Mmm," pondered Jisoo for a short moment, tapping her chin with her forefinger. She looked around the room. The only belongings here were a large sports bag containing spare clothes and toiletries, and her mobile phone. "Could you bring me my school bag then? Please?"

"You're going to study? That can wait a day or two."

I'll be studying, sure … but not the typical kind of book.

"Please?"

"Fine, alright." Mrs. Kim exhaled sharply. She would feel much more at peace if her daughter could focus solely on recovering first. "Anything else? … Your father just bought a ton of rice cakes too. I'll bring you some."